Repercussions of an Unwilling Vanguard
by Albertus Zeno
Summary: A chance meeting in the library tie Harry and Viktor together for the rest of their lives, it's just a matter of time before they realize that. Time is the issue though, as the Champions must complete their tasks and Harry decides to take control.
1. Chapter 1

**To the Masses **(and Llama, who heard the idea just as soon as I had it): I'm not sure if there are a lot of good Krum/Harry stories out there. This site only has two pages, and I don't even like half of them (no offence), so I decided to write my own. It was actually inspired by 'Once Upon A Cedric,' 'One Wizarding Summer,' and 'Harry Potter and the Vale of Destiny' all by **twistyguru. **

**Warnings: **Slash, Child Abuse, AU (also known as ripping this universe to pieces to fit my own twisted standards), and I'm sure there will be more to add in later chapters.

**Disclaimer: **Standard Disclaimers Apply.

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**Chapter One**

"_Unity Makes Strength" Motto of Bulgaria_

An overwhelming sense of sadness flooded Harry's mind in the middle of breakfast. The only indication of what he was feeling was the slight narrowing of his green eyes and a thin sheen of tears that developed as Ronald Weasley walked past him without saying a word. Harry watched with a nearly blank expression as Ron took a seat next to his sister (who was also mad at him, for some reason), and then returned his gaze back to his breakfast.

Truthfully he wasn't all that hungry, but he wanted to sit in at breakfast in case Ron decided to forgive him. Maybe it was too much to ask of his simple friend to believe and trust him, but the small boy couldn't be certain. After all, Harry never had any friends before discovering the magical side of the world. He had to learned how to socialize, and not just the kind that was required to know when serving dinner at the Dursley's house, but there had never been a situation quite like the one Harry found himself in.

He still held onto a little hope and tried to rationalize all that he was feeling, but it only became increasingly painful. Not so much in a physical way, but Harry knew if he devoted too much time to thinking about it then he would most likely develop one of his legendary headaches. Still, there it was -a small feeling deep inside of him that told him his friend would come around, and it took him by surprise.

For several minutes Harry stared at his runny eggs and dry toast, wondering if he should join Hermione in the library. She'd seemed to have sensed the tension between her friends as soon as she stepped off of the last stair and into the common room, in response he fled to the library. Later she would claim that it was to give them space to talk out their problems, but Harry knew she was about as socially competent as he was. After all, fleeing the conflict was usually what Harry did when he thought he could get away with it.

Quickly he glanced back at Ron, who was eating carelessly and spraying crumbs over his sister and her friends. Harry let out a pitiful sigh and turned away from his meal. It wasn't hard to squeeze out from between Dean and Seamus and grab up his bag. Neither of the boys asked where he was going, didn't ask if he wanted one of them to walk with him, and didn't even offer to move while he sought to escape their company. They knew the young boy almost as well as Ron did, and cleverly deduced his mood and what actions would should be taken (or avoided). Any attempt at the before mentioned actions would have led to a mild outburst and maybe a shattered goblet or two, or -Merlin forbid that young Harry actually break down and cry in a room full of people (which would lead to even more shattered goblets, and the boys had theorized at one point that Harry could actually bring down the castle in a bout of rage-turned-accidental-magic.).

After three full years of sharing a dorm they all knew that Harry didn't like attention being drawn to him, especially when he was in such as depressing mood. The best they could do was be there when he was ready to talk, if he was ever going to be, and to gear attention in other directions. Still, Harry was perfectly aware that as soon as his back was turned they would probably dig their claws into Ron -being the bloody protective mother hens they were. He chose to feign ignorance, as to save all of them the embarrassment of explaining their actions and there was nothing he could really do about it, he surmised as he grabbed his ratty old bag and exited the Great Hall.

It turned out Hermione was in the library, found behind a pile of dusty old books in her favorite corner of the library. Much to his surprise she wasn't alone, and sitting across the table from her was a very familiar Bulgarian Seeker with his own book in hand. The sudden appearance of an unknown being was almost enough to deter Harry from immediately stepping forward, but that was overwhelmed by a curiosity for what they were both reading. The sight was also enough to temporarily shock him out of his steadily darkening mood.

For a moment he stared at the scene before him. Hermione wasn't dividing her attention, so there was no obvious crush that came with their mutual acceptance of each others presence. Her gaze was fixed on the large book in front of her, completely oblivious to the flyaway curls that would normally be pushed behind her ears or the dust that stuck to her sweater. Her thumb was pressed to the front of her teeth in some sort of alternative to a thumb-sucking problem she most likely had as a small child, a clear indication that the subject she was studying was also causing her much worry.

Viktor Krum, Champion of Drumstrang, and an older man was a small threat at first. His own dark brown hair had been trimmed since the World Cup, and it looked neat and clean with no signs of gel. Purebloods as Harry understood often kept their hair long in some tribute to the older ways and more often than not they used some Wizarding equivalent of hair gel to slick it back and out of their faces. The small difference was enough to ensure that Hermione was in no obvious trouble for being a muggleborn.

Once that was decided his eyes roamed over the broad shoulders that seemed relaxed enough, his thick frock coat was resting over the back of his chair. Viktor's thick eyebrows were raised just a bit, maybe something he was reading proved to interesting. His dark brown eyes moved slowly across the words, stopping only once or twice to derive the meaning of an English word he wasn't familiar with. His wand, Harry wondered as his eyes raked over the other Champion once more for good measure -Correction, _wands_ were identified. One was strapped to the his forearm, and the other wasn't meant to be seen, and was hidden in some sort of flat holster along the left side of his rib cage.

Harry managed to project a calm disposition (which almost happened to be a complete lie), and took another step forward and then another until he reached the table. He was mostly confident that Krum would do neither of them harm, but meeting new people was still a little outside of his comfort zone. "Did either of you eat breakfast?" were his first words. His primary concern, of course, was his friend because she'd had a habit for skipping meals in favor of books. Viktor Krum was a complete mystery to Harry, but the small boy decided it would be equally unsettling for him to miss breakfast if he was to keep himself in top physical condition for the blasted tournament.

Hermione wasn't startled at all, of course she was used to Harry. Instead she glanced over the gargantuan tome she was studying pulled her thumb away before speaking, "I stopped by the kitchens this morning," there was clearly more she wanted so say about that but she continued with her original train of thought, "I thought it would be alright to give you and Ron some time to work things out." Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and chose to look at the Bulgarian Champion instead.

Viktor Krum hadn't so much as looked up from his book, which he held in one hand at eye level. The title had been worn so Harry had no idea what the subject was, but if it was anything like the texts piled in front of him it was about the history of the damned Tri-Wizard Tournament.

After several seconds he must have sensed Harry's gaze and looked up, he colored slightly under the intense stare. It wouldn't have been noticed if Harry wasn't so adept at reading people, but he let it go. "I ate," he said slowly, his voice was deep and Harry swore he could feel the vibrations of a strong base from where he stood.

Harry didn't sense either of them lied, but now that his question was answered he had less to shield himself from all of the feelings that threatened to break him down. He thought he was only seconds away from running out of the library, and maybe take solace in Hagrid's hut for the rest of the year, but he also felt compelled to stay. After a single paranoid glance over his shoulder he walked around to the other side of the table and sat between Hermione and Viktor Krum. He felt safe enough with his back to a wall and a clear view of the entrance of their little nook.

There was still an hour until breakfast was officially over and then fifteen minutes to make their way to the correct class for Double Potions. It was plenty of time to get a little reading slash observing done, drag Hermione away from her precious books, take a secret passage to the correct floor, and find a seat before Professor Snape started class. Some of the insults would be unavoidable, but Harry saw no reason to give the overgrown child any excuses.

"All right," Harry said slowly, directing his attention to Hermione, "What is today's topic of concern?" Harry thought he knew well enough what it was she was researching, but it was always better to enter a conversation with the illusion of ignorance because it made the young witch all the more happier when she explained. It would take a while for her to get to the point, but he was more concerned about her thoughts on the matter than the facts. He knew Hermione wouldn't be able to resist telling him just what _she_ thought, and he wanted to make sure she wasn't on the same bandwagon as Ron.

In return, Hermione gave an exaggerated sigh of frustration and turned her attention to Harry. "Honestly, Harry," she took the opportunity to huff in indignation, "Isn't it obvious that I'm looking for a way to get you out of this mess. Oh, and wouldn't believe all of the rubbish that's turned out about this tournament either! The Goblet of Fire seems to make a point out of making sure at least one of the Champions has some sort of mixed heritage. What if they're not the most capable of representing their school?…"and on and on she went.

The term 'mixed heritage,' was Hermione's polite and politically correct way of referring to someone like Fleur Delacour, who was not a hundred percent _homo sapien_. He could see that she didn't really approve of the coupling of a human and anything distinctly not human by the way she stressed her words, and his gaze shifted subtly to see if their guest had taken offence. Thankfully, the man's attention had returned to his own book.

"…and until 1901 every Champion was a man…" Harry zoned out, not interested at all in what she was spouting. As he understood from her fist few statements she thought it was his fault, but as they were friends she would stand next to him and try as hard as she could to help. He just needed to for the most opportune moment to explain what Barty Crouch had explained to him the night before, that he was under a 'binding magical contract,' with casual references to his own innocence and confusion.

"So how did you get drafted to do research," Harry's chin rested in the palm of his hand and he leaned towards Viktor as he asked his question. The man in question looked over the top of his book, his dark eyes staring into Harry's green ones. Only a small twitch at the corner of his mouth reassured Harry that he was amused by the way Harry had worded his inquiry.

"I found him hiding in the muggle history second from a third year Ravenclaw," his friends voice was full of disapproval, but Harry wasn't sure what it was directed at. After a moment of thought he wondered if it was because he had interrupted her, and another second later he determined that that was probably it.

"It was Debby McHarmon wasn't it? The chit with really curly hair, likes to wear it in a bun, doesn't wear a tie, and sort of looks like a baby whale?" Hermione slapped his arm at his rude description of the girl while Viktor just nodded, "I saw her giving you the predatory stare this morning. She likes to collect autographs and is well worth spending an hour clinging to the ceiling beams to get away from. I think Collin Creevy's been selling some of his pictures to her. He's not as aggressive but still pretty annoying" He paused to think if he wanted to share the next bit of information, and after remembering how she had nearly stalked him for a week he spoke up, "She's very allergic to cats, and she'll probably leave you alone after the second sneezing attack."

Viktor's right eyebrow rose a little in a silent question, maybe as to ask why Harry was sharing such information. "I don't like the attention," he tried to explain, "and even if you or anyone else did people like McHarmon are just so frustrating that it's better to steer them onto a different road before they turn stalker. I didn't handle Collin as well as I should have in his first year, and now I think he's got at least four albums of the most stalker-like pictures of me…" he wasn't really certain how his blabbering was making the situation any better, so he quickly stopped talking.

"Harry," Hermione's shrill voice began to scold him, but he quickly stopped listening. He didn't miss the nod of appreciation from Krum though, and after only four minutes Hermione gave up and shoved a book in her hands. "Here," she snapped, "make yourself useful and figure out how to get yourself out of yet another mess." The words stung, but Harry ignored them. He thought it was a great improvement over the loneliness that had swamped him earlier. He would take a hissing and bitchy friend over one that completely ignored him.

For the rest of the hour Harry read a book that Hermione would just reread behind his back, probably while thinking he didn't know enough about anything to extract any sort of meaning out of the words. Viktor continued with his own little book, and was still there when Harry and Hermione nearly sprinted out of the library so that they could get to potions on time.

For the time being the feeling of loneliness was pushed to the back of his mind. He even had a clear enough conscious to laugh as they stuck behind a portrait of Margaritte the Great Witch of Eir, opening a wonderful passage way that lead straight to the dungeons.

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**To Those Who Just Read:**

This chapter is a lot shorter than I wanted it to be by at least two thousand words. It'll be the shortest chapter out of the whole story, unless there's some sort of intermission or something, I don't really have one planned.

I like quotes and reviews

Alzipher.


	2. Chapter 2

To the Masses: **Thanking people and such in the ending note.**

**Warnings: **Slash, Child Abuse, AU, Hermione Bashing, light Ron Bashing (temporary), Technically there are OOC peoples (but really it's not so bad), I'm sure I'll have others to add later.

**Disclaimer: **Standard Disclaimers Apply.

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**Chapter Two**

_He speaketh not; and yet there lies  
A conversation in his eyes_

_~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. _

Potions was a disaster, even Trelawney could have predicted that. Snape had been particularly vicious in an attempt to deflate Harry's nonexistent ego. When Ron would usually whisper encouraging words to him while Snape's back was turned his friend wasn't there. Instead the youngest Weasley son was sitting half a class away from him, with Hermione as his partner. They whispered harshly to each other for most of the class, and Harry couldn't help but be worried that the pair of them would explode into fits of anger and loose their house all of it's points for the rest of the year.

Harry had the unfortunate opportunity of working with Neville for their practical work. Harry understood that his clumsy friend wasn't as stupid as people thought he was, but he did have an explosive inducing phobia regarding their Professor. So while Neville did his best to stop shaking and dice the mandrake root, Harry did most of the pouring and stirring while he tried to take note of important observations.

Their potion didn't explode, but Harry was more tired than he wanted to be when it was all over. It was probably due to stress; having to keep Neville from slicing off his own fingers, keeping up with their potion, not to mention the big baby that called himself a teacher. Snape had continued to unleash his temper upon Harry in a fit of immature rage, most likely in an attempt to hurt the memory of his father and piss off his sensitive godfather. He didn't say anything about the lavender color that settled in their cauldron though, so Harry counted it as a success. Maybe his self-esteem grew just a fraction, but he didn't want Snape to see that.

To celebrate Harry and Neville took their lunch to the lakeside. It served a dual purpose of getting away from all of the nasty, curious, or pitying looks of the general population. It was no secret, except to their Pissy Potions Professor, that Harry didn't like the attention and the idea was actually Neville's. Harry hadn't really recognized his clumsy dorm mate as someone intuitive until that moment, and a new fondness seemed to bloom for the poor lad.

Neville was done with his own sandwich and poking at algae with a stick with happy expression Harry rarely ever got to see. Harry was still struggling with his own bland sandwich when Krum sat down next to him. At first Harry was shocked and a little fearful, and then he was more than a little upset that he hadn't heard the young man approaching them. His eyes automatically narrowed an analyzed everything about him, and only when he decided Viktor was acceptable company did his green eyes relax a bit and his gaze return to his half finished meal.

Neville saw the expression on his face and stopped his exploration of aquatic plant life to glance between his friend and the Drumstrang Champion fearfully. Harry was a hex first and ask questions later kind of person most of the time. Then again, aside from the traditional end of year battle between Harry and that years threat, the Twins were the only ones to frighten Harry. Every single time either Fred or George unleashed a prank on the small boy they had been paid back in full, but Neville was worried about how he would react the Bulgarian Seeker and virtual stranger sneaking up on him.

He nearly melted in relief when the only thing Harry did was shift uncomfortably and glare a little. "Hullo," he said a few seconds later and Harry echoed his greeting.

"I have been looking for you this morning," Krum said instead of the initial greeting. After a moment and the older man had said nothing more Harry turned his curious green eyes on him. Viktor smirked, just barely and his eyes lit up in amusement, "You should finish your meal," his tone was very much like the one Harry had used earlier in the library, when he demanded to know if Hermione and Viktor had eaten their breakfast.

Harry grinned in response and sank his teeth into plain bread, cheese, and unseasoned chicken. His stomach could take very little else, even if he had been away from the Dursley's for over a month it was still hard to eat regular food. The House-elves recognized his stomachs response to rich foods and always accommodated him with plain soups or bland sandwiches, at least until second term when they would start reintroducing rich foods into his system. If anyone had noticed they certainly didn't say anything, except Viktor hadn't been around all that long.

"You eat your food very plain" He commented incredulously, as if he couldn't imagine anything less rich that a full meal or a sandwich any simpler than one of everything in the icebox. From his size Harry could take the chance of guessing he really couldn't imagine a simple little sandwich, and Harry would rather be pulled apart by ridiculous angry acromantulas than admit why his stomach couldn't tolerate more.

Harry huffed, but finished his bite before speaking. Despite what Hermione would say he was not as ghoulish as Ron when it came to table manners, and wouldn't go far as to speak while his mouth was full. When he swallowed, after he'd had enough time to think of a decent response, "There might be some roast beef sandwiches still in the basket."

At the offer of food Neville calmed down a bit more and returned his attention to the green water mush. Harry seemed to be fine, and he also seemed to think that Viktor Krum was trustworthy enough, or at least not an immediate threat. Otherwise he would most likely have said something rude and sent the chap on his way. Everyone with a brain could tell that Harry did just about anything to protect his friends, and Viktor wouldn't have been allowed to say if he thought the Bulgarian would harm Neville.

Viktor leaned to the side and pulled the basket towards the both of them. Inside there were five other sandwiches, only one of them was the type Harry could eat and the other four were roast beef made the way Neville liked them. Harry's flask of pumpkin juice was untouched, and there were a few muffins wrapped in a napkin charmed to stay warm.

"So you were looking for me this morning? Why?" Harry asked as soon as Viktor settled down with his own food. Harry had purposely waited until the young man was comfortable, so that he would be less inclined to leave and relaxed enough to readily answer questions. It was a tactic he occasionally used on Ron or some of the other guys in his year when he was desperate enough to manipulate the people closest to him.

Viktor looked to the side, Harry's green eyes were full of suspicion that he was trying to hide. He was courteous enough to finish his own large bite before he spoke. "You should eat more," he urged, and raised an amused eyebrow when Harry's eyes narrowed a fraction and his cheeks puffed out in irritation.

Harry's little pout was a front to mask his confusion and, a moment later a nearly overwhelming urge to chuck his food into the lake and retreat to the castle. Again he thought he couldn't be happier if he was just allowed to hide out with Hagrid or in some secret alcove for the rest of the year. He could escape through the massage that lead to Hogsmeade, floo to Gringotts to empty his accounts, and disappear -if it weren't for the damned 'magically binding' contract.

Viktor really did scare him, and just by sitting next to him -representing the competition and the extra three years of training the others had on him. It was all he could do to keep his mind away from the possible tasks that would be set before them. He hoped that none of those tasks included some sort of battle royal. Viktor was tall and imposing, a lot in the way that Dudley was, and Harry only took a small comfort in his seemingly gentle disposition.

"I was told you had class this morning, but I was hoping to catch you on your way to the second one," Viktor had probably said more than he meant to, and Harry seriously doubted he would ever hear the Bulgarian Seeker say so much once they parted for the day. For a moment, about a nanosecond, Harry felt a little saddened by that thought. "I meant to give you this. It is my hope that you will find it as amusing as I have."

He held out the thin book that he had been reading earlier. It was a warn red color with vague remnants of silver lettering, and Harry had to admit his curiosity had been peeked. Truthfully it had probably reached maximum capacity that morning, as soon as he'd stepped around a tall shelf to see Krum sitting at the same table as Hermione. He was tapping barrels of patience that he didn't even know he had. He had been waiting for something more interesting to take the place of the image engraved in his mind of Viktor simply sitting at a table with a book in hand.

Without a word he reached out and his thin fingers curled around the spine. Viktor watched every movement with intense eyes, but narrowed as he caught sight of something unusual. Harry gazed down at his own hands, as thin as they were there was nothing really wrong with them, except when he looked closer he noticed all of the little lines and bumps. They were calluses from working around his aunts house, and the thin scars from mistakes he made while learning how to use the kitchen knives. Harry realized for the first time ever that he had the hands of a worker and a housewife, courtesy of House of Dursley.

In a movement of self consciousness he pulled the book away and hid his hands in his sleeves. Viktor Krum unknowingly noticed a clue of his childhood that no one had seen before, that Harry didn't want anyone to ever see. After pushing that fact to the back of his mind he turned his attention back to that book, his sandwich lay completely forgotten in the grass.

"Harry," Neville shouted from where he stood, knee deep in the lake. His shoes had earlier been cast aside and his pants were rolled up to the knees. "What have you got there?" He asked not so much because he was curious, but Harry had been startled by something -he saw it in the way Harry set aside his food and then worried his bottom lip between his teeth.

Viktor also watched the movement, and Harry didn't appreciate the attention. With the book between his hands he flipped to the title page. It read 'Rules and Regulations of the Goblet of Fire's Tri-Wizard Tournament,' and in confusion he looked back at Krum with confusion written clearly on his face.

"They are highly amusing," Krum assured, polishing off the first sandwich and reached for a magically heated muffin. After a moment of thought he said; "You should not bite your lip like that, you will make it swell and fall off."

Upon hearing that he immediately released his teeth, and opened his mouth. Neville could tell from where he stood that Harry had something nasty to say, it was just on the tip of his tongue. He let out a little noise of distress and put the book to the side, but he no longer felt the need to hex Viktor and make a break for it with Neville in tow.

"Please don't hold back on my accord," Krum said and grinned for the first time in Harry's company. That was possibly what had temporarily undone the young boy; seeing that gleam of teeth, the amusement in his dark eyes, and the permission to unleash his rather dark humor.

In response his metaphorical mask dropped, and Neville had never before felt like such a voyeur. As Harry's face relaxed and his eyes widened in shock, his jaw was slack, his posture was relaxed, and then he laughed. It was a deep (or whatever is considered deep for Harry) chuckle from a good, happy place that was sure to upset his stomach but he didn't care. It was relief, Neville decided, pure and utter relief that young Harry hadn't been expecting. Neville half expected Harry to launch himself into Krum's arms and declare a friendship between the two of them for the whole world to hear and then maybe cry a little, but he didn't -obviously. His more rational side didn't expect something too emotional.

Instead he sobered and grinned while amusement played behind his green eyes for the first time in a while. "I doubt you'll like me very much after only a couple of hours." Viktor's expression clearly disagreed, and Harry began to pull back into himself. "Really though, don't you have classes?" his tone wasn't offensive, but he had been wondering ever sense Viktor had confessed he had been trying to search Harry out.

Krum simply shrugged as an initial response before he realized that he would have to elaborate, "Headmaster Karkaroff has declared the first day of our visit is to be spent recovering our land legs," but there was something more than that, Harry knew by the way Viktor's cheeks flushed a bit and his lips parted as if were going to admit something embarrassing.

"And then?" Harry pressed forward, subconsciously he had shifted his weight to incline towards Krum. The Bulgarian didn't seem to notice either, but Neville sure did. Harry had already reached the walls of his comfort box and hadn't even noticed. He was speaking more than he usually did with anyone other than Hermione or Ron, there was barely ten centimeters between of two of them, and Harry had accepted something from a virtual stranger without checking it for poisons or hexes first. Three years with the twins had taught Harry better than to ignore the last, but he'd done it -hadn't even brandished his wand during their whole conversation.

"Two days to ah," Viktor mumbled something to himself in his native tongue and then repeated it a little louder for Harry to hear, " find out what we can about the castle of Hogwarts. Report back what we can, anything that will interest Headmaster Karkaroff."

Neville didn't see what was so wrong about a little espionage, and he was sure Harry wouldn't either. Especially after the young man grinned and stood. "Nev?" He asked from where he stood, "shall we give Mister Krum a tour of the castle before we head off to class?"

"Which part?" Neville asked in return, emerging from the water and walking towards his shoes, "surely you don't mean the whole castle, and all before Transfiguration?" He pulled on his socks as he watched Harry pretend to think. It was rather obvious that he'd already decided and was willing to include his clumsy friend, and maybe if Neville was lucky then he would get to explore something previously unknown to him.

"Oh, the Third Floor Corridor?" Harry said a moment later in a very casual tone, "The place Fluffy used to live? I haven't been back there in ages, I wonder if the trap door is still there?" His last question was rather genuine and Krum watched on as Harry had some sort of internal debate about where they would go in the short time before he had to return to class. "Or we could just drop him in the Chamber of Secrets until classes are over…at least then he would have a very good place to hide from all of his fans" he said with a dreamy quality about his voice.

Neville looked on appalled at the very suggestion. How could Harry even think about doing something so evil to their guest, someone he was talking happily with until just that second? Then it hit him, like a metaphorical brick trough a window; Harry was joking. "Oooh, uhhh," He struggled with a way to keep the joke going, but he had been so shocked out of his wits he didn't think it was going to be possible.

Harry turned to Krum with a smirk and holding himself in a haughty posture that brought Krum's grin back, as he'd obviously realized Harry was having them on. It deflated a second later, as did Krum's half-smile impression when a thought occurred to him, "Dean and Seamus had practically begged me all first term last year to take them. I suppose that the basilisk corpse is still down there as well, and we would want Professor Snape or someone to dispose of it," he sighed miserably.

"Professor Snape! Why him?" Neville was already starting to shake at the vague notion that he would -even accidentally, spend time with the Potions Master.

"Nev, you know he's not _really_ going to chop you up and use you in any potions -don't you?" Harry asked first. When Neville nodded yes, he knew that _rationally _speaking Snape wasn't going to kill him, Harry continued on. "Basilisks are very rare and they decompose at a rate slower than every other organic thing in the world, except a dragon. It's venom catches a very high price as well, and I was thinking-" Harry cut off his sentence swiftly and changed the topic, "Let's just see what's on the way to Transfiguration. I think there might be a collapsed passage and one that leads to an abandoned classroom near the kitchens. Would that be enough to appease your Headmaster for today?" Naturally those were two of the most common passages, ones that could be found even without his Marauders Map.

Krum nodded, but the corner of his mouth was turned down slightly and his eyebrows were pinched together in thought. Harry ignored his expression as he gathered their things, tossed his forgotten sandwich to the squid (who caught it), and the book Krum had handed him.

"What were you going to say, Harry?" Neville asked quietly as he stood again and brushed off the back of his trousers. He knew Harry was rather self conscious of the ideas he presented, especially after second year when Ron had said one \ was 'Slytherin-Like' in a rather nasty tone.

"Uh, nothing important Nev," and so Neville dropped the subject, but that apparently wasn't enough for Krum who still had a negative expression. Sure, it was subtle and no one would really notice unless he wanted them to, but Neville had gotten rather good and interpreting Harry's small facial expressions that he'd seen the worry and confusion directed at the small boy.

"If it is worth any amount of basilisk venom then it must be important to you, and will not be ridiculed. Yes?" Viktor said and then turned a threatening expression towards Neville, who nodded in agreement and a little bit of fear.

"Oh, you know what. I haven't even introduced the two of you properly," Smooth, Harry thought sarcastically. "That was really rude, I'm sorry. Krum this is Neville Longbottom, Nev this is Viktor Krum." He distracted himself by hoisting the large picnic basket to rest on his skinny hip and turned towards the castle. "Are you two coming or not?"

They caught up with Harry quickly enough, and without a word Viktor took the handles of the basket and pulled it away from him. He huffed a bit, but readjusted his school bag and let his annoyance go before it became an issue. He would let Viktor be the gentleman, for now and then when he'd had enough he would try to say so plainly or extract possible revenge in the form of a prank to help rebuild some of his lost sense of masculinity -he hadn't really decided at that point.

"You know we only have twenty minutes to get to Transfiguration don't you?" Neville said calmly while he tried in vain to keep his steps small so that Harry wouldn't fall behind. He did have a bit of self-preservation though, and tried to seem less obvious about it. Viktor seemed to be doing so easily enough, then an idea struck him. Not in the violent way that Professor Snape wanted to, but it was a little surprising. "I'll go get our books and meet you there, so that way you can show Krum the passages. I already know about the one that ends close to the kitchens, and a collapsed one won't do any good anyways."

"Oh, alright. I'll save you a seat," Harry agreed slowly, but his green eyes were piercing into Neville like he could read his intentions, and it was a little more than disturbing. So he turned right and made his way towards the tower while Harry and the Bulgarian Champion continued on a forward path. One Neville had turned the corner Harry frowned a bit, "he's up to something," he mumbled more to himself than anything.

"Harry," Krum paused, "Can I call you Harry or do you prefer Potter?" When he asked Harry turned to him and wanted to frown in suspicion, but grinned instead. Viktor's dark eyes caught sight of his feelings, but he didn't have a heart to call the young man on it. Not when he had other questions he wanted answered first.

"Harry is fine, Viktor," he replied, "We should drop the basket off at the kitchens, I'm not sure Professor McGonagall would appreciate having a picnic in class. We could take the passage I was referring to earlier," with that he glanced up and down the hall before approaching a suit of armor. "Hullo Sir Knight, you're looking rather shiny today? Have the third year Hufflepuffs been given detention for planting illegal things in Greenhouse Five again?"

Much to Viktor's surprise the suit of armor tilted it's head back and shook as if it were laughing and then nodded. "Oh," Harry said, "I guess they didn't take my advice then. I really do hate to cut this short, but Viktor and I need to get through and back again, is that alright?" the suit of armor nodded again, patted Harry's messy hair and then stepped to the side. Behind him the wall had disappeared leaving an arch that was just big enough for Viktor to get through and a dark hallway.

They were well within the dark hall before Viktor spoke again, "I want to ask you about what you were going to say earlier, something you didn't want Longbottom to know." He stopped abruptly as his chest bumped into Harry, who had apparently stopped out of shock.

"Oh, well," he sounded a little more than uncomfortable, "I'm sure you would understand, you're older and probably more mature than a lot of the blokes I hang out with. Ron, for instance, would say that it was a very Slytherin idea. I guess you wouldn't really know about houses yet, aside form the most basics. Slytherin is generally known for being evil. I mean, I know they're not all bad just like I know all of the other houses aren't exactly all good. Ron doesn't understand though, and I'm sure Hermione would just huff and tell me it wasn't morally just."

"Harry?" Viktor tried to keep his tone light, but the younger boy wasn't getting to the point. He was obviously nervous about whether or not his friends would accept him for some of his ideas, and he seemed to fear rejection very much. If his earlier response to 'holding back' on Viktor's accord were anything to go by. "Harry, I assure you -I will not laugh or be upset if what you want to say is what your peers call 'Slytherin." He heard Harry let out a deep breath and moved away from him, presumably walking forward.

"I was going to offer the venom to Snape so that he would leave my friends alone. Like Neville; everyone knows his greatest fear is Professor Snape, it's even the form his boggart takes, but he's especially vicious to him. Sure Nev's pretty clumsy, but he's got a good head on his shoulders, so I thought if I offered up something especially rare and useful to him then he would back off a bit," Harry finally admitted it, having through of it since his third year when Professor Lupin had the young boy face the boggart.

Viktor understood and sighed a bit. "That does not sound so dark to me. It sounds more like bribery, but it is not dark. To give up something worth so much money so that your friend will not have to suffer the temper of a person such as your Potions Master sounds very much like a good thing."

"Yeah, but it's not all that," Harry paused, they were almost at the end, "The basilisk is in the Chamber of Secrets, something built and hidden by Salazar Slytherin and his hidden behind a password in Parseltongue. It's all the snakes and secrets that upset them, and not to mention that I'm the only one who can speak the password so if something were to happen -like another cave in, then I would be stuck and probably die. Dead and Seamus joke about wanted to see it, but I'm pretty sure it's all just talk."

"You offered to take me," Viktor reminded him, and just as he spoke Harry opened a wall that lead to an empty classroom. The room was completely empty except for a single student's desk that was pushed against the wall.

"Yeah, I don't suppose I mind going myself. I killed the basilisk after all, so I know nothing down there could hurt me -you know, except a cave in. There are spells to reinforce the caverns and repair the damage done the last time I was down there, I'm sure. I'm also think it could get into a lot of trouble, most of my friends aren't known for keeping secrets. Maybe this weekend, after I've had time to research some of the spells and then we would have enough time to explore. I wont tell them so they wont tell everyone who will listen."

Viktor grinned once again. He was happy the young boy had opened up and began to consider options that he thought were closed to him, it showed maturity that some of his house mates probably lacked. "We could take that Professor Snape to collect potion ingredients, and maybe he will not be so harsh to you or Longbottom in class," he was only repeating Harry's previous idea, so it surprised him a bit when Harry turned his piercing green eyes on him and smiled -really smiled.

"That would be wonderful, maybe I could even borrow Collin's camera and Snape could have a picture of himself standing next to a basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets. He's the head of the house of Slytherin, you know? I think he would explode with joy," he joked. The visualization of his potions professor exploding in a moment of happiness then began to played in his mind, and he began to giggle which soon turned into heavy laughter. He was joined a moment later by Viktor Krum, who took delight in the happiness he could share with Harry.

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**To Those Who Just Read: **

Thank you; **no one of consequence** and **Josie's money**, to who I could not reply directly to because they weren't logged onto accounts. No biggie, shrug. I have to say thank you, your reviews made me giggle a little with happiness. I'm glad it caught your attention, NOoC. To Money; I also just got into Harry/Viktor stories and didn't look very hard for a story before I decided that most of them must be crap and that I should write my own. Again I had also been reading a Cedric/Harry story by **twistyguru**, and I was inspired.

Also thanks to **peruser**, who I could and did reply to in full…and possibly gave away too much of my plan while I was trying to reassure her that I do have a plan for Ron, and in addition to that; yes, I do think Ron is stupid. I also think that stupid people shouldn't be taken too seriously, or your head will explode.

Oh, and thanks to all of the people that added me to their alert or favorite list, so far there are seventeen of your awesome mother….fire-truckers…

I like quotes and reviews.

Alzipher.


	3. Chapter 3

To the Masses: **Uhh, Surprise! And thank you again to all of those who reviewed and to the people that added me to their favorites and alerts list. **

**Warnings: **Slash, OOCishness (but people have assured me that my versions of Harry and Krum are so far liked), Child Abuse and Neglect, AU, Hermione Bashing, Manipulative Dumbledore, Stupid Ron, and I'm sure I'll have more to add later.

**Disclaimer: **Standard Disclaimers Apply

* * *

**Chapter Three**

"_A real friend is someone who walks in when the rest of the world walks out," anon. _

Monday had been a happy day for Harry, so simple and yet he found so much joy from an hour in good company. Neville had been his companion for the rest of the day, and they talked about everything except Harry's tentative friendship with the Bulgarian Champion. Even Hermione avoided him, though he supposed it was likely that she wasn't doing it on purpose. By dinner she had rejoined the rest of the world and was happy to tell him all that she'd learned about the Tri-Wizard Tournament.

Harry had chosen to sit near the end of the table for dinner that night. Neville had chosen to sit on one side, while Dean took the other. Seamus, who was never seen very far away from Dean, sat in front of his dark skinned friend while Hermione had taken the seat across from Harry. Naturally Ron was still upset with him, for something he had no control over mind you, and Ginny was comforting her brother. The Twins weren't far from their younger siblings, but Harry was sure they were there to tease more than to comfort. If their laughs and Ron's polka dotted skin was anything to go by.

Truthfully, Harry had alternative motivations for the seat he chose. From where he sat, it only took a small incline of his head and he could see Krum past all of Hermione's hair. At first it was hard to tell who was who, every single one of the young men from Drumstrang wore the same crimson and brown uniform to dinner. They were all well built, all around the same age, and most of them had dark hair. There was one bald chap that amused Harry, but he quickly regained himself and found Viktor. The other Seeker was sitting between a blond bloke who looked very much like the Vikings Harry read about in muggle history and another young man with a very awkward looking square chin.

He wasn't on the verge of obsessing, he told himself. He was observing Viktor's behavior to determine whether or not the young man had been genuine earlier that day. He watched as the Bulgarian Seeker loaded his plate with rich meats and delicious looking potatoes, and looked back down at his plain soup with a miserable expression. He contemplated why he would possible feel jealous that Viktor could stomach better food, but couldn't find an answer before Hermione waved an impatient hand in front of his face.

"Yes, Hermione?" He had asked politely enough. He kept his eyes focused on his bushy haired friend, and tried to establish some sort of eye contact but she looked away quickly. He frowned just a bit, that was certainly a new development and he wondered what had her nervous.

"Honestly, Harry weren't you listening?" she tore a roll in half as she snapped at him, huffed once and repeated herself. "I asked if you finished your Transfiguration homework. You know you would do well to actually listen to people when they talk to you."

Harry plastered a grin over his irritation and attempted to keep his eyebrow from twitching. She must have started her monthly cycle a little early, he decided. He slurped another spoon full of stew and told himself he couldn't be full yet as there was still half a bowl left and tried to cast a casual glance at Viktor again before he chose to answer. "No," he lied easily enough, "I was hoping you would help figure out how to explain how the Law of Equal Exchange is similar to Isaac Newton's laws of Motion."

That last part hadn't been so much of a lie, he actually would have liked to brainstorm on the theories of the motions of magic that were forced on an object that lead to it's initial transfiguration. He'd run across a similar theory while eavesdropping on a couple of sixth year Ravenclaw's in his third year and read up a little on muggle laws of science. It wasn't the most interesting topic of conversation, but he couldn't help but me a little curious. One glance around told him that his dorm mates didn't have similar interests, as their eyes had glazed over enough to let Harry know they were in la-la-land. Hermione just looked at him like he'd grown a second head that had just announced an impromptu engagement to Fleur Delacour.

"Harry, there are no similarities between magical laws of transfiguration and muggle laws of science. I swear you say some of the most ridiculous things sometimes," she scolded harshly. A Ravenclaw student from the table behind Harry snorted softly, but Harry simply nodded as if he'd been properly chastised and let the subject go.

After dinner Hermione was off to the library again, and Harry retreated to the Gryffindor common room to read the book of rules that Viktor had leant him. It turned out that the Bulgarian Champion was right, the rules were so ridiculous and condescending that they inspired a few chuckles.

"What are you reading?" Seamus asked from across the study table. The Irish son had been doing his own homework while Hermione was still at the library. He had claimed that he didn't want her to read over his shoulder and correct every single one of his stupid mistakes. Harry understood a bit, but didn't say anything on the matter.

"Rules for the Tri-Wizard Tournament," Harry replied, catching Dean's attention as well. From the corner of his eyes he could also see that Neville had put down his quill and was waiting for him to continue. Suddenly he had felt a little more self conscious, remembering his clumsy friends face when he had joked about dropping Viktor Krum into the Chamber of Secrets.

Neville was at least partially aware that Harry was getting ready to pull back into himself with no more than a mumbled 'nothing, never mind,' and they wouldn't be hold what he found so amusing. He remembered the Bulgarian's forward words from that afternoon and said quietly, so that the whole common room didn't have to hear. "You know, you don't have to worry that we won't get it. Even if it is something as mean as dropping a certain Bulgarian into the Chamber of Secrets."

Harry chuckled at his friends reiteration of an earlier joke, but sobered instantly at the hostile looks that Dean and Seamus were directing at their parchment. "What did he do to you?" Seamus had demanded, "If he hurt you we'll kick is ass good and…and…what's so funny Harry?"

"Viktor didn't do anything wrong, he just asked us to show him around the castle a bit. I had said something aloud about dropping him in the Chamber during classes so that he could explore, and Nev's face was priceless." He grinned just a bit as he said the last bit, watching as Neville flushed and mumbled something about evil potion professors and snake venom. "I was just having them on," he tried to explain.

"Wow, what did Krum have to say about it?" Dean leaned forward a bit, as did Seamus and Neville so that they wouldn't have to talk so loud.

Harry rolled his eyes at their antics and brandished his wand. Before any of them could ask what he was doing he threw up a privacy bubble that flashed a light blue before disappearing. Each of his house mates blushed deeply and muttered to themselves in embarrassment. Harry ignored their discomfort, but filed it away for later use. "He didn't say anything. I think he knew I was only joking, and it's not like he understands how bad the Slytherins reputation is or that I'm the only one who can speak the password."

"You still haven't told us what's so amusing about that rule book," Neville pointed out and the other two just nodded. Neville watched their small friend melt a little when he realized they weren't going to call him evil or turn their backs on him, like Ron had just the night before.

"Oh," the three non-champions watched on while he struggled with the reflex to say 'nothing really.' In the end he decided to tell them, and if they didn't like his humor and turned on him then they would just be doing what the rest of the school had. "Rule Ninety-Six; acceptable dates to any formal occasion hosted by the Tri-Wizard Tournament do not include those with a surplus of principal parts, any zoophagous entity, or a life-form whose mass exudes that of the hosting space." He looked up to see three identical looks of confusion, "Should Dumbledore wish to host some sort of ball we're not to take anything with extra limbs, any flesh-eating creature, or something that is larger than the Great Hall."

"Oh, so I guess I couldn't take the Giant Squid," Neville said lamely, disappointment flashing across his face for only a moment before they all burst into laughter.

The group went on in much of the same fashion while the other boys finished their Transfiguration essay's on why they couldn't successfully turn their mice into kettles and back again. Harry had already finished his own assignment, despite what he'd told Hermione, so he continued to read the thin volume of seemingly random rules. It wasn't until Hermione returned form the library with an upset looking Ronald Weasley did they pack away their homework and go their separate ways.

With Tuesday came Double History of Magic, which most used to nap or finish other homework assignments. Harry spent the first half an hour playing hangman with Neville until they were both bored, after which Neville pulled out a thick Herbology text.

Harry had the options of finishing the rule book, but it had started becoming rather repetitive. So for the first time in all of his years at Hogwarts he pulled his own history text towards himself and looked for a chapter that wasn't all about goblins. The book that they used for History of Magic was the same every year, so he really hadn't bothered getting a new one. The first half was really all about separate Goblin Wars, all of them were short and bloody and ended in some sort of profit. The chapter they were on currently sounded like the Goblin versus Vampire Battle at Eir, which ended like all goblin battles -with lots of casualties and newly discovered treasures. Halfway through the book it began to delve into fearie and elf history, what little was known, and then it branched off to other magical creatures.

Harry was a tad more than a little upset that it wasn't in chronological order, but rather the order of importance each creature had on the Wizarding World. He wondered if he should pull a Hermione and barricade himself in the library until he found a more suitable text to replace the class. By the end of the first half of the class was over he decided to have someone else 'pull a Hermione' and recommend a book when they were done.

His options were limited; it well known that anyone and everyone who valued knowledge for knowledge's sake was in Ravenclaw (Hermione didn't count for some reason or another), and because they were apart of the rest of the school they weren't talking to him. He would have to look for outside influence, but that didn't take long. The only people who didn't attend Hogwarts and that he knew would talk to him willingly were…well, no one. Professor Lupin had been brilliant though, and from what he understood had been friends with his parents. It was always worth a shot, so for the rest of the class Harry drafted a letter.

_Dear Messrs. Moony and Padfoot_

_Remaining Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief Makers, _

_The Child of Mr. Prongs would like to first deny any and all rumors ever printed by the Daily Prophet and news papers in general in regards to his new status as the Second Hogwarts Champion. While in truth the Child of Mr. Prongs was named as such, he did not put his own name in that ruddy old goblet. The Child of Mr. Prongs would also like to apologize and offer condolences to Mr. Moony over the loss of his position as Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, and feels he is speaking for all students when he says that Mr. Moony was the only competent Professor that the Child of Mr. Prongs has had in all of his time at Hogwarts._

_To get straight to the point, The Child of Mr. Prongs admits to having a bit of difficulty in regards to his History of Magic. In a fit of boredom he endeavored to actually read the text that has been assigned to the course for the better part of a century, and has come to determine that it is utter rubbish. The Child of Mr. Prongs also refuses to lock himself in the library until he's finds a book that could be used as a substitution for the class of History of Magic. Having thought of an alternative, the Child of Mr. Prongs would like to ask Mr. Moony to recommend a text that seems fitting. Provided it's not too much trouble, and the Child of Mr. Prongs is willing to reimburse Mr. Moony for his time and any text that he deems suitable. _

_The Child of Mr. Prongs would like to make a point of mentioning that he is doing fine in all other classes, and is about to adjourn to Herbology. _

_Best Wishes and Much Thanks_

_The Child of Mr. Prongs_

Harry hastily scribbled the last bit, folded it, and shoved it between the pages of his now useless history text. He really hoped that Professor Lupin and Sirius didn't mind that he'd leeched their speech patterns from the little bits of dialogue the Marauders map provided. Only for a moment did he wonder if he should rewrite the letter, but Neville was looking at him with an expression that inspired a bit more speed in Harry's movements.

The rest of the day had been pretty boring. Harry did remember to send off the letter before dinner, finished his assignments in peace as Hermione had drafted Ron to help her with research. Harry wondered if Krum was still helping her, and if he should wonder to the library to see. That thought was squished into oblivion by an unexpected swell of self-preservation. Ron was not tolerant of him, Ron was also in the library, therefore it was a place Harry should probably avoid.

Wednesday was nearly unbearable. Professor Moody was still screaming 'Constant Vigilance,' like it should be a Holy Commandment. It wasn't really anything new, neither was his badmouthing of dark wizards in general, but they did learn a nifty new blasting curse. Neville still didn't like the old man very much, not sense he had demonstrated the Unforgivables at the beginning of the year and fled from the classroom as soon as the bell tolled.

Still, everyday was getting worse and Harry's own anger was building steadily. He was feeling more and more alone as his best mate continued to ignore him, as Hermione spent more and more time in the library. He understood Dean and Seamus had their own social circles to pay homage to and couldn't spend every moment babysitting him or his hurt feelings. Even Neville had better things to do, probably something involving plants. By the end of classes on Wednesday Harry was at a total loss of what to do.

There wasn't a lot of homework to complete. He'd finished all of his major assignments, and really didn't want to finish his chapter questions for Potions. Quidditch practice wasn't until Friday, he'd finished the little rule book, and he'd cleaned the dorm room twice.

"Mister Harry Potter Sir?" A high pitched voice asked, breaking him from his own thoughts. He turned on his side and looked over the edge of his bed, and his green eyes instantly met with Dobby the House-Elf's. "Mister Harry Potter Sir, Dobby has come to check on Mister Harry Potter sir and is wondering if he is hungry and to say Hullo."

Harry smiled at the little bugger, "Hullo Dobby, and no -I'm not very hungry. Thank you for asking," he said as he sat up and patted the spot next to him. Dobby instantly jumped up and sat down, his knobby legs hung over the side of the bed and kicked back in forth. Harry noticed that his House-elf friend was wringing his hands nervously, and something was obviously on his mind. "What's wrong Dobby?" he asked tenderly.

Dobby's head turned instantly, his big eyes were watering, and he sniffled before answering. "Mister Harry Potter Sir is knowing Dobby likes being a free elf sir," Harry nodded. Indeed, he would be hard pressed not to notice all of the socks he was wearing or the floppy hats that were stacked high on his head, "Dobby is liking his socks and his hats and his Weezy sweater from Missus Molly Weezy, and he his liking to make money to one day support a missus elf and little elflings." Harry understood that as well, and grinned at the thought of Dobby having a little family, "but other elves is not understanding. Dobby does not blame other elves sir, that they has been getting sad. Dobby doesn't like to tattle, but Mister Harry Potter Sir's friend, Her-my-oh-knee has been leaving knitted clothes for elves. They is threatening Dobby with a flogging if he cannot get Mister Harry Potters Sir's friend to stop."

"Hermione's been leaving clothes for House-elves?" Harry wondered aloud. He had noticed that she spent most nights knitting, but realized what had been going on when he recognized several of the colors in Dobby's knitted hats. "I'll talk to her about it, and could you tell the other House-elves that she doesn't mean to be offensive."

"Yes Mister Harry Potter Sir, you is very kind," Dobby said, still looking a bit downcast. "Dobby is just worried that other elves will end up like Winky if they is to be freed accidentally."

Harry recalled the tiny elf that belonged to Barty Crouch, how enraged the man had been, how he'd freed the distraught elf while everyone was watching. Harry felt anger towards the man well up all over again, and not just because he'd been the one to announce that Harry had no choice but to compete in the Tri-Wizard Tournament.

"How is Winky?" Harry asked instead of hunting down the ministry official and gutting him, even though it wasn't like the alternative was possible. Harry contemplated giving him a piece of his mind, in the form of a potentially dangerous prank, the next time he saw the man. He hadn't really decided which trick to play but he could always enlist the help of the Twins, and filed that information away for later use.

"Winky is not well Mister Harry Potter Sir, Winky has taken to drinking lots of Butter Beers sir. House-elves is not very tolerant of the Butter Beer and she is not a sight to be seen. Dobby is knowing Mister Harry Potter Sir doesn't know much about House-elves, but Dobby is telling you sir that Winky needs a master to be happy again."

"Dumbledore's not her master?" Harry asked. He watched as Dobby's long ears flapped against his face as he shook his head, "Why ever not? I thought all of the House-elves but you were bound to the Dumbledore and the school?"

"The Headmaster Sir is having one hundred and seven elves to be bonded to him, and cannot have any more. Headmaster Sir is a great Wizard (thought not as great as Mister Harry Potter Sir), and his wizard magic is having to be with one hundred and seven elves is nearly too much. Winky cannot be bonded to the Headmaster because his magic cannot feed anymore elves."

"Well, what all is needed to take care of a House-elf? Maybe I can ask around and find a master for Winky," Harry offered, so far he thought he understood what Dobby was talking about. It seemed like the magic of the Wizard was what kept their House-elves alive. It sounded a lot like something he'd read before, but he wasn't sure when or where.

Dobby was instantly excited about the offer and jumped to his feet. He bounced a little as he laid out the requirements, "Master of a House-Elf be needing to want a House-elf sir, then they needing to be strong so that Winky can be strong enough to recover from the Butter Beer and then to be a good worker, and finally the Master needing to be nice to Winky. Dobby will not be having any Wizard treating Winky like a Malfoy House-elf."

Harry grinned at the last, and nodding in understanding. "Alright; Wants a House-elf, strong, and nice," Dobby's ears flapped up and down as he nodded, "I'll ask around. Until then," he paused as to think of something, _anything_ to do. "Oh, do you and Winky want to help me clean the Chamber of Secrets? It would be awful if I take Viktor down and he's too grossed out to do any exploring." It had the advantage of being something to take his mind off of the boredom.

Dobby's eyes, if possible, grew even larger at the offer and he began to nod and squeal in excitement. "Dobby is being honored to clean a part of the castle that other elves is not being able to get to. Dobby will no longer be called worthless because he is a free elf. Dobby is getting Winky and Winky will believe that Mister Harry Potter Sir is a great wizard indeed!"

"Alright," Harry said as his eyes followed the bouncing Dobby. "How about you two meet me in Moaning Myrtles' loo on the second floor and I'll take you down with me. You'll have to be careful though, to protect yourselves if there's another cave in."

"Mister Harry Potter Sir is not to be worrying about cave-ins. House-elf magic can fix things, and Dobby is planning on making Mister Harry Potter Sir's part of the castle very safe for yous. Dobby is not wanting Mister Harry Potter Sir to be crushed by large rocks," Dobby insisted. He seemed to realize he'd been ranting and with a final 'Dobby be meeting Mister Harry Potter Sir with Winky,' he disappeared.

Harry shook his head, in a mixture of amazement and amusement. Dobby was always so light hearted and it wasn't really hard to talk to him. Something he'd mentioned earlier bothered him, about Hermione trying to free house-elves when they didn't want to be freed. How they might end up like Winky, drinking into oblivion and crying all of the time. He made a mental note to talk to Hermione about it, perhaps after dinner. That way she could debate with him all she wanted to and not draw the attention of the entire Great Hall.

He grabbed his Firebolt and shoved his invisibility cloak into the pocket of his cloak. The first was so that he could get out of the Chamber again, and the second was just in case something came up. Confident that he didn't need anything else, he left the dorm. The common room was just as empty as he thought it would be and it wasn't difficult to leave. On a crowded day he would be stopped a couple of times on his way out, by first years who were still a bit star-struck, the Weasley Twins, or a number of other people.

He was very surprised to push the portrait aside and get an eyeful of a muscular chest clad in the Bulgarian uniform. Instantly he looked up and his green eyes began to analyze the expression and posture of Viktor Krum. "Hullo," he said with a bit of uncertainty.

"Harry," he said with a trace of amusement in his voice, "Longbottom mentioned to me that you might be, ah 'bored out of your wits?'" His dark eyes were still lit with a sort of hidden laughter as he watched Harry stumble to the side and shut the portrait. The large woman dressed in pink grumbled a bit, but was ignored for the most part. "Are you going flying?" he asked after he noticed the broom.

"Oh, no. I was getting ready to help a couple of friends tidy up," Harry paused and wondered how to phrase the next statement. He'd figured out long ago that most of the portraits reported suspicious information to the Headmaster, and he was sure he didn't want Dumbledore to find out where he was going or what he would be doing, "that place I wanted to show you," he finally decided. "It's pretty messy, and I guess I just needed something to do. My Firebolt is to get back out again."

"Do you mind if I joined you?" Viktor automatically asked. He stepped to the side and turned so that he was standing next to Harry instead of in front of him.

In response Harry shrugged, but as he remembered meeting the two House-elves he thought of something else. "Sure. We're meeting Dobby and Winky, they're two House-elves," and he started walking towards the stairs. "I promised Dobby I would help Winky find a master, hopefully soon. From what he's said she's taken to drinking and crying more often than anything else."

Viktor gave a sympathetic look in Harry's direction, not for the young Gryffindor though. Viktor was raised as a wizard and knew what a sad sight an unbound house-elf could be. Unless this Winky found a master soon then she would probably die from either consumption or sheer sadness. "That is a sad thing to hear," he noted as they descended the stairs.

"Yeah, so," Harry wondered for only a moment about how to word his question, but decided it wouldn't do him any good to pussy-foot around the subject, "would you like a house-elf?"

Viktor stopped in his tracks, but Harry urged him forward. It wasn't really safe to stop while on the stairs because they had a tendency to move and didn't care if anyone was on them. Viktor followed but turned to him when they reached the forth story landing. "Do you know what you're offering?" he asked. His tone dropped an octave and sounded very serious to Harry's ears, sending a shiver to the back of his neck and across his shoulders.

"I imagine I might not. All I know is that Dobby and I want her to be with someone who will be kind to her," he fretted over whether or not he should tell Krum about Dobby's bad experience at the Malfoy's, but decided it was Dobby's business and choice. "She is rather distraught over being set free after the World Cup."

"Ah, she was the House-elf that belonged to that ministry official then?" They had continued to walk and we're coming upon the second floor. He let Harry lead them, because he honestly had no idea where they were going and the young boy seemed rather disturbed whenever someone tried to take charge over him.

"Yeah, Barty Crouch gave her clothes on the spot -right in front of everyone. She couldn't have used the wand like they were accusing her of, though. I looked it up the first week after term started, and there was something about a House-elf's natural magic that can't be filtered through a proxy," he simplified. "So what is it I'm not really understanding?"

"In my country only the oldest most noble houses have House-elves. They're bound to one family for eternity, unless given clothes. When a family dies off, a House-elf will usually follow without a second thought. That makes them a dying breed in Bulgaria. To be bond to a House-elf is an honor, as if acknowledging that the family is worth it's status." They're reached the door to the second floor girl's loo. "Why are we here?" He wondered, and his eyes bulged when Harry didn't answer and chose to walk in, instead.

"This is where the only known entrance is located," Harry explained as he stepped in front of the sink. Viktor moved to stand next to him, and was surprised when two knobby figures suddenly appeared not too far away. "Hullo again Dobby, hullo Winky," he said politely.

Dobby was bounding from one foot to the other, looking both excited and explosive. He still wore five and a half pairs of socks and three silly little hats over his Hogwarts uniform, and he looked even happier than when they parted ways not too long ago. "Hullo Mister Harry Potter Sir and his friend."

Winky was a sad sight though, and it made Harry's heart twinge a little. She was a little off balance, a Butter Beer bottle was clutched in a small hand. Her little blue and white outfit was stained with various things, and her ears looked almost permanently droopy. She said nothing to either of the young wizards but raised her arm to take another swig of brew.

Harry stepped forward couched down, and without saying a word he pulled the beer from her little hands and handed it to Dobby who banished it with a nasty glare. "Winky, I've got an important job for you to do today. Do you think you can help me?" He asked in his kindest tone.

Winky squinted as if she were trying to see him and shook her head, "Harry Potter will not want Winky's help. Winky is a bad elf, she has failed the Master Barty Crouch," she said pitifully.

Dobby stepped forward, a vile of something light blue in his hand. "Dobby is telling you Winky, that Mister Harry Potter Sir-" He was cut off abruptly as Winky glared at him, her hand was raised in a rather threatening manner.

"No, Winky is telling Dobby-Elf how it is! Winky is a no good elf, Winky has let Master Barty Crouch down," and back and forth the arguing went.

Harry stood at his full height and stepped back next to Viktor. The young Bulgarian man was watching with sad eyes and Winky kept belittling herself and Dobby disagreed. "Do you, in good conscious offer your friend to my services," he asked Harry.

Both House-elves stopped arguing almost immediately. While Winky was distracted, staring at both young Wizards with an open mouth, Dobby uncorked the vile and poured it in. She swallowed on reflex and her eyes began to clear, but she was still staring in disbelief. Dobby looked rather proud of himself, as he put the stopper back on the vile and pocketed it.

Harry glanced around and realized that those words must have meant a lot to both House-elves as well as the Bulgarian Champion. "I, in good conscious and knowing the full extent of my actions offer Winky-Elf to you and your family, Viktor." Those words sounded the best, they were polite if not a little degrading. Apparently it was enough, and Winky stepped forward and held out a thin little hand.

"Winky is not deserving, but Winky would be happy to serve a family," she offered, sounding sober and not hysterical for the first time since the Quidditch World Cup. Viktor too her offered hand and the magic ran through them both. It was so simple, yet it obviously meant so much to the little elf. When she pulled her hand back she stared at it with happy eyes before she looked back at Viktor, "Winky is thanking Master Viktor."

Harry and Dobby stared on as Viktor pattered her head, but then he turned his attention to the second Hogwarts Champion. "The Chamber?" he asked. His tone sounded lighter and happier to Harry. He had no idea bonding wizards to House-elves put people in such a good mood.

* * *

**To Those Who Just Read:**

This is a filler chapter, just like the last one. That makes me a little sad, but maybe I'll get to a plot in the next one.

I'm not too fond of the first half of the chapter. Harry is definitely going to need a different Marauders name. Eh, and it was a little rushed but I have a plot to get to! Really though, that's no excuse. I'll do better next time.

As for the House-elves…I'm not sure if I explained it well enough. I couldn't resist a little House-elf bonding, and I hope it wasn't too abrupt. It's not like Harry and Viktor's relationship (slow and developing), but more like …property exchange? No, that just sounds mean. I have more explaining to do later, like why it was up to Harry to approve the bond. I'll get to it! It's not a plot hole, I swear! I still think it was rather abrupt though, but…it's done now.

Thank you again to all of those who reviewed! I'm pretty sure I replied to everyone, but if I missed you then I'm sorry. There was a lot of comments about Ron, and just so we're clear; yes, he is stupid but I still have use for him. Thank you for your compliments on my character and relationship development, I hope I didn't disappoint anyone. Yes, I do know it's hard to find a decent Viktor/Harry story and I can relate in terms of having to scour the internet for them. Now, I've covered everything but Professor Snapes part -that's still a secret.

Thank you again! I still like quotes and reviews,

**Alzipher **

P.S. this chapter was written while listening to 'Lie Lie Lie' and 'Praise the Lord and Pass the Ammunition,' by Serj Tankian on a loop. -Al


	4. Chapter 4

**To the Masses:** Thank you for all of the reviews. I responded to all of them except Josie's Money, who I _can't_ reply to. Oh, and thanks for all of the adds as well. I was giddy with every single one of them.

**Warnings: **Slash, OOCness, AU, Mentions of Child Abuse and Neglect, Hermione Bashing, Manipulative Dumbledore, Stupid Ron, and Independent Harry.

**Disclaimer: **Standard Disclaimers Apply

* * *

**Chapter Four **

_Most of the great triumphs and tragedies of history are caused not by people being fundamentally good or fundamentally evil, but by people being fundamentally people. -Terry Pratchett _

Harry meant to turn back to the broken sink and hiss the password, hoping to get it right the first time. Instead, everyone's attention was diverted when a pitiful wail was emitted from one of the stalls. Harry would have rather brave another basilisk than comfort the always-miserable ghost that had died just a few stalls over. However, Myrtle was a friend -a whiny, slightly bi-polar, dead friend; but she still had feelings that Harry felt obligated to consider.

He glanced to one side to see the House-elves look a little indecisive. They seemed a bit torn between popping off and staying next to the young wizards, and Harry couldn't really blame them. Moaning Myrtle was legendary, even amongst the staff. After all, the House-elves did have to clean up her mess whenever she flooded the toilets. To his other side Viktor was gazing at the closed stalls in concern, and maybe a little embarrassment. Harry then realized that Viktor had no clue that it was a ghost crying in the toilet, and not some fleshy young child.

Myrtle wasn't that much older than he was when she had died, he absently thought. She could have been a tall third year or an average sized forth or fifth year, and probably taller than him. He glanced between the stall and Viktor again, wondering what the young man saw when he looked at Harry. Was he the Boy-Who-Lived or some scrawny kid that agreed to show him his super-secret club house, or perhaps Viktor was concerned over his standing in the Tournament. He felt like he had to know down to his very bone if he had a true friend in the other Champion, but didn't ask.

Instead, he took a step forward and put an arm out, as to halt the other from stepping forward. The House-elves, who were already well aware of the situation, hid behind Viktor's legs. They know that as soon as the ghost saw them that she would probably flip a switch, and it was usually bad. Not that Moaning Myrtle ever needed a valid reason to go postal. Viktor didn't do anything afterward, but watch on silently and ignored the little hands that held onto the legs of his pants.

"Myrtle," Harry called out tenderly. He'd only had a few previous meetings with the vindictive girl, but knew it was always best to start off with her favorite subject -death. For some reason the dead Ravenclaw took well to morbid topics, except her own metaphorical light being snuffed out prematurely. He also knew better than to ask her any questions, because she would always reply with something petty and bitter. "Myrtle," he tried again, "thank you for the invitation to your death day party."

The invitation he mentioned had been received mid-October, and wasn't very tangible. The names on the envelope was the only clue he had. Of course, other ghosts delivered similar things so it wasn't hard to figure out. "I wrote it down in my planner, and already have so many questions about death," he prodded a little more while he took another step forward.

"I can't hear Harry Potter," she screeched back. Harry was momentarily reminded of the House-elf standing behind Viktor. With a glance over his shoulder he deduced the current state of their minds; Dobby and Winkey were skeptical but kept a safe distance, not to mention using Viktor as some sort of wizard shield. The human shield met his green eyes with a confused look. He also looked a bit huffy, but Harry didn't know why.

"Why can't you hear Harry?" he went on to ask, but he wisely stayed in place. If he did step closer and she decided to turn her lavatory into something that resembled a gauzier, then he wanted to lower his chances of getting hit in the face by toilet water.

"I can't tell Harry that I've been ordered to tattle on him if he shows up in my bathroom," she wailed in sadness, and immediately broke out into loud sobs. A full minute passed before she spoke again, "Because the nasty Chamber is here, and he might want to take a little trip to visit that dead snake. So it's a good thing he doesn't visit!" That last bit was spat out with so much anger Harry thought his ears would fall off.

"So if you can't see Harry, than you can't report him to…" He trailed off in hopes that she would finish, but she didn't. She let out another high pitched moan and he heard the sound of water swirling down the pipes. Myrtle had flushed herself, and hadn't answered his question. "Damn," he swore before turning back to his audience. "I don't suppose any of you have any idea of who is keeping tabs on me?"

Both House-elves nodded, but Viktor stood stoic. Finally, the Bulgarian spoke "Perhaps this is not the best place to have such a discussion," he suggested. His tone was hard and closed off, making Harry nervous. He knew it was true though, they needed privacy to discuss such things.

"Mister Harry Potter Sir's Chamber is private, so private that even us House-elves is not be getting in without permission," Dobby spoke up. "Dumblydoor is been trying to get into Mister Harry Potter Sir's Chamber for a long time indeed, and there is being barriers all around that only Mister Harry Potter is getting trough."

"I believe you are speaking of a series of wards," Viktor addressed the elf, who just nodded in agreement. "Wards that could be set in any number of languages, all of which your Headmaster Dumbledore would have access to…except perhaps Parscelmouth."

Harry didn't know a lot about wards, but he understood a little of what Viktor was telling him. Still, he wondered how he was supposed to give permission for them to get through the wards and how had Ron and Lockhart gotten through the year before. Rarely he asked questions, but he didn't know what to do short of hulling himself up in the library to look for books on parsletongue based magic that probably didn't exist. "What to do then," he wondered aloud, and bit on his bottom lip. "I'm sure I could get us through without harm, Ron had been fine. What about what Myrtle had said, and the two of you know who's watching me?" he turned back to the House-elves.

"Winkey cannot say, I has been given orders," Winkey tried to explain, and cast pointed looks at Viktor and then teary ones to Harry. She obviously wanted to say something, whether it be House-elf morals or because Harry had found her a new master -one that was already nicer to her by far.

"Winkey," Viktor said carefully, "tell us who has ordered you to keep watch on Harry Potter, and any others who were involved." It sounded good enough to Harry, but it was specific enough and the magic that bound Winkey to his family now felt obligated to make her talk and override any previous order.

"Winkey is being told to watch Mister Harry Potter sir by Headmaster Dumbledore, and to be telling him when Mister Harry Potter sir is having bad dreams or is being mad enough to clean the whole tower again," she said happily, while Harry flushed. Viktor glanced at him with amusement in his eyes and a tad bit of concern. When Winkey spoke next she was more confused that happy, "Mister Professor Moody is telling Winkey to be telling him with Mister Harry Potter is having a difficult time of things of the school's game and is not to tell Headmaster Dumbledore that Winkey is being given orders by Professor Moody."

That was quite a bit, Harry had to admit. While Dumbledore's orders seemed to be out of concern for while wellbeing, and the health of other students. The first time Harry had started cleaning obsessively he was eleven, and was very upset over something Snape had said to him. Ron had tried to talk him down, but only made it worse and a bit of magic lashed out accidentally. Ron hadn't been hurt permanently, but he did spend the rest of the day with foul smelling puss clinging to his hair, turning it pink after only an hour. The second wasn't even a month later, and after a fight with Draco Malfoy; Harry had tried to clean the common room and been scolded by an older student for touching her books, but had burst into tears a few minutes later claiming that Harry had been giving her the 'Devils' eye.' Afterwards people generally stayed out of his way when he worked himself into a cleaning fit, and as far as he knew the House-elves hadn't complained about the cleaner tower.

Pulling his mind from his memories, he concentrated on Moody's orders. The man was an ex-Auror and could have any number of reasons. None of his theory's ended in getting help in the blasted Tournament. Death, incarceration, and trouble in general, sure. Help just seemed extremely unlikely.

Harry cast a casual glance at Viktor, who was staring back at him with a very pointed look. He immediately let his lip loose, remembering the older Champions previous complaints about his lip-biting habit. He then turned to Dobby and asked quietly, "Have you been given similar orders?"

Dobby nodded, "Headmaster is being telling Dobby to watch Mister Harry Potter Sir for nasty nightmares and his cleaning-when-mad. Dobby is being telling Headmaster that Mister Harry Potter Sir is cleaning a lot because his Weezy is being a meany, but is not been making other students cry." Dobby seemed very happy that he could tell the Headmaster all of that, and Harry was a little disturbed at his lack of privacy but grinned anyways. "Dobby is also being told by his Snape Master to be putting Mister Harry Potter Sir in a full body bind if he is deciding to wonder Hogwarts at night and getting himself in all sorts of mischief. Dobby is being ignoring that order," he added proudly.

"This Professor Snape is becoming very unpredictable," Viktor muttered. Harry couldn't help but agree, having no idea why his teacher would order Dobby to use extreme measures to ensure his safety -in his usual caustic manner, but the sentiments were there (sort of).

"No one has shown up yet to retrieve us from the bathroom," Harry pointed out. Indeed it had been several minutes since Myrtle flushed herself and had not returned, so Harry could conclude that no one would be coming. He could be wrong, but it didn't seem likely at the moment. "I think it's safe to go down now, if you still want to," he offered softly.

Both House-elves nodded eagerly, and Harry couldn't help but feel that maybe this was a bigger honor than he had originally thought. Dobby had gone back to bounding from foot to foot in eager anticipation, while Winkey looked happy all around.

He shifted his eyes to look at Viktor, who nodded loosely. The corner of his lips was turned up slightly, and just enough for Harry to consider it a smile of some sort. Again, he wondered how the young man thought of him. If Viktor saw him the same way Harry saw the first years; young and inexperienced in the world. Harry wondered what he would do if Viktor saw him as the Boy-Who-Lived instead of a child, if the Bulgarian asked for his autograph or only followed him around so that he could return home to tell people that he'd made great friends with the only known person to survive the Killing Curse. Harry didn't know what he would do if it turned out in the end that Viktor had just been using him.

He wanted to ask, he really did, but I just wasn't in him. He didn't want to give up one of the few people that were willing to spend time with him, so instead of asking he stepped towards the sink and hissed the password. It was a flawless pronunciation, and he could hear the tell-tall whisper of the snake language underneath, what he perceived to be, proper English.

Immediately the sinks began to part, leaving nothing but a black hole in the ground. Harry turned back to his audience and explained, "It's like a slide, and dirty as hell. When we get to the bottom please don't freak out if you land in a pile of animal bones." Dobby and Winkey agreed quickly, and before he could say anything else the jumped into the hole. Harry smiled as he heard Dobby squeal in joy.

Harry stepped aside and Viktor looked at him with quiet nervousness, before he brushed past him and let himself fall into the blackness. Harry touched his shoulder where Viktor had bumped into him, and before his mind could run rampant again stepped forward. He clutched his broom in his right hand uncertainly, but mustered his courage. With another hiss the sinks began to close and he jumped down quickly, before they had a chance to squish him.

The ride down as everything it had been the previous time, if not a little less dirty. He could still feel all of the mud and just clinging to his clothes though, and hoped that everyone else had moved out of the way before he landed. Basic logic told him that Viktor was heavier and traveled down the tube faster than he did, so instead he hoped that the House-elves had moved out of the way quickly before _they _had gotten squashed.

At the end he launched out of the pipe and into a pile of bones, landing with a crunch. The torches were already illuminated, casting yellow tinted light everywhere. Dobby and Winkey had already started banishing bones and other snake parts into little bins that were probably bottomless. Viktor had been standing off to the side, but walked towards him in a brisk pace.

Harry managed to pull himself up before the other Champion reached him, and had already picked up his Firebolt. "It's looks better already, without the threat of death hanging over my head." Indeed, the ante-chamber did seem a bit nicer. The boulders had already been removed and he tilted his head back to see the ceiling was seamless and didn't look at all like it would come crashing down on them.

"Are you well?" Viktor asked when he reached him. The Bulgarian Seeker was still covered in disgusting grime, it clung to his clothes and his hair. He didn't seem to care, he just looked at Harry with concerned eyes, and anticipating his answer.

"I'm fine," Harry replied automatically. In truth his lower back hurt where he had landed on it, but he wasn't about to admit to that. Instead he turned to the House-elves, "Do you mind if I help?" he asked casually.

Both House-elves stopped to stare at him in alarm. They glanced at each other, but only Dobby turned back to him. "Mister Harry Potter Sir is wanting to show Winkey's new master the Chamber of his Secrets. We is taking care of the cleaning, so Mister Harry Potter Sir cannot help us," he lectured, even going as far as to put one skinny hand on his bony hip and waving his long index finger at him.

Harry laughed a bit, grinning like an imp, and said "Alright then. We'll just go exploring for a bit. Oh, and don't worry about getting rid of the skins or the basilisk in the adjoining chamber. I'd like to keep as much of it as possible."

"Dobby is understanding that Mister Harry Potter Sir is liking to keep such rich materials and will put them aside for Mister Harry Potter Sir," and with that both House-elves continued to banish piles of bones into bottomless waste baskets, revealing a floor that was buried at least two feet bellow them.

Harry nodded once more and made his way to the three circular doors against the far wall, and Viktor followed quietly. Once he reached the doors he took in every detail of them, because he hadn't been able to the last time. There were the bones that littered the bottom, of course, and the cobwebs that hung overhead. Yet, he was actually surprised to see the sharp writing above each door. The one furthest to the left, that he'd taken to reach the basilisk was labeled 'Yeux's Chamber,' that reminded him of the bronze name plates that were adhered to the door of every dorm room.

His green eyes moved to the middle door, which lacked the animated locks that 'Yeux' Chamber had. There were still snakes, of course, but they were fewer and of a larger breed with diamond backs. Curious feels were rising as he moved to read the label above the final door, 'Paresseux's Chamber,' with the same locks, of the same snakes that blinked at him curiously. Harry told Viktor all that he read, and they spent another moment silently contemplating what direction to go.

"Let's see the Entrance Hall first," Harry finally decided and pushed on the circular door. He had honestly been expecting more bones, a thousand years of dust, and a very distinct snake motif. He also expected it be full of dark colors and nasty sculptures. If that weren't going to be the case then he would believe it was full of dark artifacts or another basilisk.

Instead, Harry gazed in amazement first at the ivory colored marble floor. Then up at the high ceiling was outlined by bronze plating, and he could even make out color behind all of the dust. Elegant carvings stood out, beautiful depictions of people and creatures. The walls on either side of them were also done in the same ivory color, and the bronze continued along the bottom of the walls. Columns ran the length of the room, and there were a few little alcoves that housed marble busts carved out of similar materials. He was amazed, taken aback, and quickly tried to take in all of what he could see.

"I hadn't expected this," Harry said in shock. It looked nothing like the chamber on the left or the Slytherin common room, or anything else he'd expected. It was light and welcoming, or would have been without all of the nasty dust.

"From what I have seen of the Slytherin rooms above, I had expected this room to be a little less inviting," Viktor added in agreement. He stepped forward before Harry did, and continued to walk the length of the broad hall.

Harry quickly caught up with him, and looked every which way, trying to take it all in. The hall had to be at least fifty yards long, about the same as the chamber to the left. The further they walked into the 'Entrance Hall,' the more curious Harry was. He had questions as to why Salazar Slytherin had built something so beautiful, why it was flanked by large snakes, why it wasn't as dark as the common room, did he spend time down there alone or did people accompany him. He didn't ask any of them out loud, but walked quickly down the hall with Viktor Krum on his right.

"Wow," Harry said as they reached the end of the hall. From the door it looked as if it had stopped abruptly, but hidden around the corner of either side were staircases carved into the ivory stone. They didn't look as if they would move, but Harry still wasn't sure that they were safe. He was tempted not to care as he looked up to see a hallway that ran horizontally to the one they were in. He automatically turned to one of the staircases, but Viktor's fingers curled around his forearm and kept him from walking forward.

"The House-elves have not secured these rooms, yet," he said carefully "they might not be safe," he added in an attempt to keep Harry from climbing them. His eyes bore into the smaller boy, trying to convince him to see reason. If any of what he heard about the young boy was true then Harry would charge forward first, and deal with potentially life threatening situations as they came along instead of anticipating them.

Harry looked at Viktor with bright green eyes, at the stone stairs that didn't look at all dangerous, at the hall above, and then down at his broom. It wouldn't be nice to take off with his broom and leave his guest bored and alone with no where to go but back to a room full of bones. He also didn't want to go exploring with his arms wrapped around Viktor's waist for support, or vice versa. "We can always come back at a later time," Viktor tried again.

"Oh, alright," Harry said finally, and Viktor let go of his arm. He couldn't help but think that if Hermione or Ron were with him then they would already be up the stairs and down one of the halls. Then again, Ron and Hermione would never agree to come with him to the Chamber of Secrets, and if they had they would have bolted when they found out Moaning Myrtle was ordered to tell on them. "Hey Viktor," he asked in a more subdued tone while walking back down the hall. They could always dust off some of the sculptures while they waited.

"Yes?" Viktor asked from his place at Harry's side. The young man turned his head to gaze down at Harry as the young Gryffindor was obviously trying to summon enough courage to continue with his intended line of discussion. He watched as Harry bit at his bottom lip and tugged on the bottom of his shirts self-consciously.

"I was wondering…well, firstly why did you ask me if Winkey could be bonded to you, she doesn't belong to me, and why it's such an honor to have a House-elf," it all sort of poured out of his mouth, but once he realized he was spewing questions he stopped abruptly and looked a little embarrassed. His cheeks flushed a bit and spread across his nose, contrasting with his eyes and making them look brighter.

"It is normal for House-elves to be traded between wealthy families, from master to master. They will only receive clothing if they are unfit to work or are a cause of great distress in a family, in usual circumstances. I wizard can never take a House-elf, they must be traded for something. For Winkey, I gave you my friendship -which you would have received regardless. However, I was in need of something that the magic would recognize," he tried to explain, but he wasn't entirely sure he was doing a good job when he looked at Harry's confused face.

Harry understood the answer, but was stumped over the blatant acknowledgement that the Bulgarian Champion wanted to be friends with someone three years his junior and from a rival school. "Why though," Harry wondered, "I'm not much of a friend, even Ron doesn't think so. Hermione probably thinks I'm more of a child than a peer, and everyone else just see's me as the Boy-Who-Lived. Except maybe the Weasley Twins, they think everyone is a guinea pig for their pranks." He knew he was ranting, he knew that by slumping over and worrying the hem of his sweater with scared fingers make him look pathetic, but he really didn't want to look up and see what expression Viktor had.

He heard a sigh first, and large hands came to rest on his shoulders. He pushed back a flinch at the alien feeling of physical contact, but nothing was said about that. Instead, Viktor spoke in a soft voice, or whatever was considered soft for Viktor's deep voice and accented words, "You are not as arrogant as I thought you would be, you are actually very nice and I value that in a person."

"No, I'm not," Harry argued, and wanted to kick himself for sounding so stupid and needy for approval, "I turned the Weasley Twins purple a week before you got here, and charmed all of their clothes to turn into pink leotards whenever they wore them. I make first years, and Hufflepuffs in general, cry when I glare in their direction. I tripped a seventh year Slytherin on the train and blamed it on Hermione's cat. I tend to be purposely misleading with my studies so that I won't make Hermione mad and Ron still thinks I put my name in the goblet but I haven't explained it to him properly," Harry cut himself off again one he realized he was ranting and admitting things that no one else knew. Quickly, he looked up with a shocked expression on his face.

Viktor waited for half a minute, thinking it was an appropriate amount of time for Harry to calm down. "I am sure there were reasons that you thought sufficient at the time," he said and chuckled, trying to imagine two notorious redheads with purple skin. Already the Twins, as they were simply known, had played several of their tricks on his peers form Drumstrang. The other things didn't mean a lot to Viktor, as Harry had otherworldly eyes that would scare even the fiercest of wizards. The other little things Harry had mentioned were also of no consequence, but he said nothing more in an attempt to lessen the awkward moment.

"I'm sorry, I really don't mean to push my problems onto you…and please don't mention to Hermione that I lie about my studies…she would probably throw something at me," his voice sounded strained, but not in the way that sounded as if he would try. It seemed like he had to put in a great deal of effort to keep the volume of his voice audible, and at the same time he was keeping himself from slipping into Parseltongue.

"No, I apologize for distressing you. I did not know that friendship was a subject that would upset you," Viktor replied, squeezing his shoulders once before letting go. "Now let us talk about something else. I still have not answered your second question, and I believe you asked why House-elves had such an impact on social status?" He saw Harry nod once, still a little distressed but he was no longer felt the smaller boys magic pressing against him. "House-elves are slaves, I believe that is the right English word. They work for little or no pay, and do hard work for their masters. To own a slave a master needs to be able to support them, in this case magically, meaning that they have power and money to do so."

"Oh," Harry seemed to finally understand, "Power and Money are basically what old families are all about, so to have more House-elves means to have all that more power." He saw Viktor nod out of the corner of his eye, so two of his questions had been answered. He still had a million more, but thought it would be potentially less annoying if he looked up the answers himself or wrote another letter to Moony and Padfoot (mostly Moony). There was something else he wanted to ask though, something he wouldn't be able to learn from the library, "Viktor?" he questioned slowly.

They had reached the circular door again, but stopped short of leaving so that Harry could ask his question. This time he only raised on of his thick eyebrows in question, and so Harry continued, "Will you teach me how to speak Bulgarian?"

In response Viktor smiled, teeth and all, and patted the top of Harry's head with a large hand. "Yes, Harry," he had laughter in his voice that spread a warmth through Harry, and the shorter Champion smiled back, "I will teach you Bulgarian."

* * *

**To Those Who Just Read:**

This chapter hasn't been beta read yet, but I do have a beta reader. A big improvement, I think. I was going to wait for her to get back to me with the improved chapter, but my patience jumped off a cliff and impaled itself on jagged rocks. I was just too excited to get his up.

I got awesome feedback, and I thank everyone who participated in that. Again.

So I have a gift for you all! Yay! I noticed in art that people usually reward others with drawings, but…I can't draw worth poop. Well, it might be worth poop, but I certainly don't want to be paid in it. My point; I gift you a bonus scene from Seamus' point of view in thanks for all of the reviews and adds. I'm not sure it'll be well received, but it's the thought that counts…this might as well be your Christmas present while we're at it. Oh, and Happy Birthday….;

**Bonus**

Seamus entered his shared room with a little trepidation. He knew Harry wasn't having a good time of things, and was likely to clean until his fingers turned red. The question was, where was he cleaning, because avoidance was key after the smaller boy had worked himself in a frenzy. It was all stupid Ronald Weasley's fault, too. Seamus shook his head quickly to dispel thoughts of the stupid redhead. He and Dean had talked about it, and decided it would be best to not show any anger towards Ron while Harry was around.

He closed the door behind him and walked past the first bed and got a good view of the whole room. Harry had definitely been cleaning, but was no where in sight. It was all in the little details, and took a great deal of time to finally be able to see the difference between the times Harry cleaned and when the House-elves did it. Harry would hang all of their towels around the heater so that they would be warm when the boys would need them, but the House-elves would fold them and leave them neatly at the end of their beds. Harry would return their books to the respected owners while the House-elves put them on a book shelf against the far wall. The little differences were what Seamus noted, and sighed.

He felt empathy for little Harry Potter, not the Boy-Who-Lived, but the person that everyone liked as they grew to know him. Seamus had been raised half and half, by a mother who was a witch and would tell him stories every night about the baby who had defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. When Seamus had learned that he would go to school with him, possibly in the same house, he was so excited. He imagined him to be tall and confident, not overly arrogant, and nice to everyone. He was disappointed when he ended up sharing a room with the small green-eyed boy with chicken legs, who was too shy to talk to anyone the first night they shared a room.

Seamus remembered the first night that Harry had looked to be on the verge of tears. He had been all geared up to laugh at him for being a sissy, like he would any other boy their age. He never expected Harry to slump his shoulders forward and started to pick up articles of falling clothing, and not just his own -Harry picked up everyone's clothes and laid them in the laundry bin by the bathroom door.

Harry surprised everyone, not just Seamus, and he was nothing that the Wizarding World had expected. Except Snape, who hadn't seemed to notice, and Seamus hoped he would one day drown in his own greasy delusions. None if it mattered after a while, Seamus had forgotten his vision of a strong young man who would lead them all against evil Slytherins. Instead he concentrated on his scrawny friend, who would have been subjected to swirlies if he hadn't been the only one who had ever survived the Killing Curse.

After the first year Harry had gone from being the Boy-Who-Lived to just Harry, their clean friend who was in obvious need of a mothers hug and was one paranoid episode away from being bat-shit crazy.

It was Seamus and Dean who diverted the Twins from playing a mean joke on Harry, usually by pointing out younger students. It was still Seamus and Dean who jumped a fifth year Ravenclaw when the young man had been talking about kidnapping Harry and experimenting on him. It was always Seamus and Dean who diverted trouble, who pulled Ron away when he started to clean, and they were always prepared for the day that a big bully would come along and decide to shove his head down a toilet and flush. It was they who distracted Harry one at a time so that they could sneak tasteless food onto his plate while he wasn't looking.

When Ronald Weasley had blown up on the night of Halloween it was Seamus and Dean, both sitting on Deans bed who listened to their child-slash-friend cry in his own quiet way, and watched a little House-elf (dressed in odd colors and pieces of clothing) cry along with him. He had been so upset, because it was Ron who had been the best friend and it had been him who had hurt Harry more than anyone else at Hogwarts.

Seamus was deep in his thoughts, worried for Harry who was no where to be seen, and he wanted to punch that Weasley in his big, freckled nose. He was drowning in his emotions when a dark hand rested on his shoulder and pulled him back.

Dean rested his chin on the top of his friends head as they hugged awkwardly, "He'll be alright," Dean said strongly. He let Seamus go a second later, before things got too weird for either of them, and walked to his own bed. He surveyed his nightstand, no doubt taking note of his books stacked neatly and the picture of him and his mother was turned to face the bed. The House-elves always moved it to face outward, but not Harry.

"You don't really believe that," Seamus shot back, moving to the end of his own bed to retrieve his muggle clothes. They were going to play football for a while with some of the other muggle raised students, and robes were too heavy and constricting.

"We'll be there, whether he notices us or not…So yeah, he'll be alright," Dean countered, "especially if what Neville told us is true," he added after a moment. His own muggle clothes were on the top of his trunk so he didn't have to dig for them, and his black and white ball was neatly tucked into the side.

"Oh yeah," Seamus said lamely. He'd already forgotten the conversation they'd had with Neville on their way back to class.

Longbottom had stopped them at the entrance; they were going to go hang out with some Ravenclaws in their year while Neville was headed to the greenhouses to work on his little project. He'd mentioned a possible friendship between Harry and Krum, which they had already known. Neville then told them something they hadn't known, which surprised them both and didn't at the same time. It was something they were already familiar with, but hadn't fully realized; Harry had a rather dark sense of humor.

Apparently Krum had told him not to hold himself back, not to pull into himself because he's afraid of loosing the few people that were still treating him like a human being (or any number of acceptable magical creatures found in the Wizarding World that weren't shunned). Neville said he even smiled a little at Harry's bad joke, and Harry was happy in return. The whole notion sparked a bit of joy in Seamus, and probably Dean as well. How could they not be happy to learn something about their friend, and when they parted ways they vowed to keep a better eye on their younger friend.

Dean had wanted to immediately find Harry and offer comfort and acceptance, but more for the purpose of seeing Harry's debatable sense of humor for himself. Seamus wanted to find someone to hit, preferably a Weasley or maybe one of Harry's neglectful relatives. Dean had knocked him out of his thoughts with a firm demand that Seamus not do anything stupid, and they had left the classroom to find some of their friends. Nothing had really changed on the outside, but internally each boy was dealing with stressful thoughts concerning their friend.

Their trip to the dorm served a dual purpose of checking up on Harry, but he wasn't anywhere to be seen. That was actually a good sign if it meant Harry wasn't laying around their room moping. He was most likely with Granger in the library, or visiting with Krum some more.

"Seamus," Dean called out, "don't be so worried. If Harry had gone off to face some previously unknown danger and possibly end up in the hospital wing again then Dumbledore would have been mysteriously absent at lunch and Professor Snape would have already demanded we tell him where Harry is." Sadly, he had a point. Every time Harry had been in danger Dumbledore wasn't there, and every single time they would eventually have bumped into their least favorite teacher, he usually looked to be a half step away from a heart attack, and demand they answer strange questions. Every single time, without fail.

"Yeah," Seamus added half-heartedly, "I just wish Ron wasn't being such an arse." He slipped on his clothes quickly, and packed away his robes. It wouldn't do any harm to toss them on the floor like any normal fourteen year old boy would, but he would feel too embarrassed to do something like that right after Harry cleaned their room.

He replayed the conversation over again in his mind, and was thankful that Dean was there, and that they were both helping their friend along -not because he was the Boy-Who-Lived, but because he was a friend and he needed them.


	5. Chapter 5

**To the Masses: **I'm alive. Wahoo!

**Warnings:** Slash, OOCness, AU, Mentions of Child Abuse and Neglect, Hermione Bashing, Manipulative Dumbledore, Stupid Ron, and Independent Harry, Other stuff!

**Disclaimer: **Standard Disclaimers Apply.

* * *

**Chapter Five**

"_I could tell he had been through something that wasn't good. I didn't know what, but it was written all over his face and his body language," Diane Adams _

Harry walked alone, down the stone corridor that led to a collection of stairs. He had parted with Viktor earlier, after learning a few basic words of Bulgarian. He repeated them over and over in his head, mouthing them and moving his tongue in an effort to pronounce them without an accent. Viktor had told him he said them wonderfully, but Harry still felt a little self conscious.

Dobby had offered to take his broom back to his room, just as soon as they had gotten back Moaning Myrtle's loo. The ride up had been just as awkward as Harry predicted it would be as they rose through the old pipe, Viktor's arms wrapped around his waist. He hoped the Bulgarian Seeker would remember to bring his own broom when they met up on Sunday.

Afterward they had both gone to dinner, parting at the door of the Great Hall so that Viktor went to sit with his native friends and Harry was left to the not-so-tender mercies of Hermione. She had gotten it into her mind that he hadn't even started his homework and lectured him on the necessity of promptness throughout dinner. Harry was somewhat surprised that she hadn't yet scared off the other blokes form his year.

After dinner Hermione had immediately headed to the library. The others were still eating gracious helpings of roast duck when Harry told them he was full and that he would catch up with them later, which left him to stroll all by his lonesome around the castle for an hour. He was grateful for the reprieve, and time to think, but a part of him still felt too lonely for comfort. He had wished that Ron would pull his head out of his arse and tell him that it wasn't his fault. Harry wasn't even looking for an elaborate apology, Ron didn't even have to say 'I'm sorry,' because the words he really needed to hear were 'it's not your fault.'

He was contemplating his own social shortcomings when something smaller than himself, and fleshy made contact and two persons went sprawling across the floor. Harry immediately noticed dark blurs in his vision, but they settled moments later when he regained some of his common sense, and he rolled over to see who had run into him.

He wasn't at all shocked that the person he connected with was a small child, after all it would have had to be someone very young that managed to be shorter than he. He even calmly took in her appearance, he light blonde hair, her big blue eyes, and the light blue uniform she was wearing. She was clearly from Beauxbaton and greatly resembled the school's champion. What did take him by surprise were the tears in her eyes and large stains along the silk fabric of her clothes. She recovered just as soon as he did and began to speak French and a pace that might have caused her lips to catch fire.

From what Harry remembered from primary school he could understand that she was apologizing, and was very afraid. "It's alright," he said softly, holding his hands up to show that he didn't have his wand out and that he wasn't angry. "I'm alright, and I wouldn't hurt you. Are you okay?" he tried to pronounce his words slowly and carefully so that she would understand, in case her English wasn't very good. "I am also sorry," she squeaked, wiping away tears with the back of her hands. "I vas being chased by," she stopped speaking rather abruptly and began a tirade in her native language.

"By some Hogwarts student's, wasn't it?" Harry looked sadly and feeling ashamed for the way certain people represented the school. "You shouldn't apologize for that, some people are just rotten," he continued as he stood, and then held his hand out for the small French girl. She cautiously grabbed hold of his fingers and he helped pull her to her feet. Just as soon as she regained her balance he moved overhead and began adjusted strands of blond hair.

Harry was perhaps painfully aware of how much girls treasured their hair, having spent time around Lavender Brown and the Patil sisters. Those girls only represented one extreme, and would become unreasonably upset when the wind ruined their hairstyle for that day. He did notice that the French girls didn't seem nearly as vain, but they did present a nice and clean image to the other schools. Normally Harry wouldn't have bothered helping a girl fix her hair, not when he couldn't even get his own to lay flat, but the young girl was still too busy crying and rubbing her face to do much else. "There you go," he said when he thought her hair looked much better, and readjusted the little blue headband before he pulled his hands way.

"There you are," someone shouted from a shadowed corridor straight across from Harry. While he had been painfully aware that the bullies terrorizing the young lady were from Hogwarts he hadn't been ready to see that her tormentors were from his own house. Immediately his eyes set in a deadly glare and the three young perpetrators stopped in their tracks, their wands still brandished. "Hey Potter," the one spoke up again, his voice wavered a hint.

"Connely," Harry snapped, his eyes hardened further, "I don't think I need to tell you how upsetting it is to find my fellow Gryffindors acting like common thugs." His voice came out in a growl and he almost smirked in a very Snape like fashion when two of the boys flinched and looked away in shame.

The second year that stood in the middle of the small group didn't seem as reprimanded, but he didn't look at Harry as he spoke up. "She's only getting what she deserves," he tried to reason, "She's not human, she's a freak."

If their actions hadn't merited any humiliation before they sure did after the last word, the forbidden word that most of his school mates knew better than to use. "She's a person, just like you three are," Harry growled, "You're very lucky I don't have the authority to punish you," he continued on. Those last words though, were enough for the three boys to realize that they really had made a giant leap over their boundaries, and they bolted in the other direction.

"Merci," a small voice said moments later, and brought Harry out of his snappish mood. "Ze were upset zat I am 'alv Veela," she explained carefully, "and ze have not left _je_ alone since _nous_ arrived."

Harry stepped back so that he could look at her as he talked, but didn't bend down to reach her level. It bothered him when others did such things while talking to him, so he kept his rigid posture but smiled. "They'll be set straight later, don't worry about it. You're Fleur Delacors sister, aren't you? Shall I help you find her?"

"_Oui, Monsieur _Potter," she seemed to have regained a level of cheerfulness and took his hand without invitation, "_Je m'appelle _Gabrielle, and I vould be honored if you vould accompany me."

"Alright then," Harry said turning to a different corridor, "Where do you think she would be?" he looked down and asked the young girl.

She turned back to him with a contemplative look on her face, "I know she makes eyes vith a 'Ufflepuff," she supplied.

"We'll start there then," Harry said with conviction, "do you know which Hufflepuff she fancies?"

Not even half an hour later and Gabrielle was safe in her sisters arms, both of them talking at the same time and so fast that Harry couldn't understand. It only took a minute or two and then Harry was enveloped in a tight hug by the older Delacour sister, Fleur spouted off thanks in both French and English and kissed his cheeks before she let him go. Her actions were embarrassing and foreign but not entirely unwelcome, and he replied to their thanks kindly.

"I know ze say we are alone," Fluer said just as he turned and was about to leave, "but we should practice together regardless, us and ze other Champions. I 'ave seen you spend time with Viktor Krum, and it would be rude to leave out Monsieur Diggory."

Harry met her eyes and gave her a kind smile, "that would be wonderful, I'll pass the message along to Viktor and Cedric, if I see him." He wondered idly if it seemed odd that he was more likely to see the Bulgarian Champion than the one from his own school. He bowed slightly, his hand over his heart, and bid them farewell saying "I have three idiots to deal with. _J'espère que nous aurons bientôt l'occasion de nous revoi_," he finished carefully, hoping his pronunciation wasn't too horrendous.

He took enough time to see that both Veela sisters were smiling sincerely before he walked away, and took a sharp turn.

Harry had honestly meant to arrive at the common room much earlier, but in the end he thought it was worth helping Gabrielle and seeing her safely to her sister. He didn't even care too much when, as soon as he stepped foot into the common room, that Hermione was on his case like flies on manure. "Where have you been?" she asked shrilly, slamming her book shut and onto the table.

He didn't appreciate that she was shouting at him from across the room, so he didn't move as he replied equally as loud, "I was helping a lovely French girl find her sister," and as he remembered her tormenters his eyes scanned the room. He sighed when he didn't see the offenders, but resolved to take the matter up with Fred and George. He knew, in the basic recesses of his mind that he should report the case to the Head of House or the Headmaster but his faith that adults will punish accordingly was slightly less than zero. Fred and George on the other hand, would make sure the boys regretted their actions and would never repeat them again.

Speaking of, his eyes scanned the room a second time, noticing the expressions of many of his house mates. Most of the blokes looked on in awe, while girls did so with curiosity, but it didn't matter once he caught sight of the Twins (immortally capitalized in everyone's minds and the most twin like of the duplicates at Hogwarts). They weren't looking at him in awe or curiosity, but had noticed his first assessment of the crowd and knew what came next. So while he ignored his bookish friends huff, he made his way to the Weasley and Weasley corner of the common room.

"Hey Harry," one said. Harry would say he was Fred, if he had to make a guess, because of an almost unique pattern of freckles in the corner of his left eye that the other didn't seem to have.

"Heard you met with one of the Lovely Ladies in Blue," George continued, leaning forward in mock interest while his brother followed suit.

"Care to introduce us later, and find out if she had any single friends?" They tilted their heads simultaneously and Harry would have sworn aloud. He noticed the pattern wasn't so unique and his guess would most likely be wrong, and began looking again for a sign that they weren't completely identical.

"That's just what I came over to talk to you about," Harry said carefully, "earlier I found the younger Miss Delacour being tormented by three of our own," he continued plainly. All of his subtleties wouldn't have done him any good with those two, because as genius as they proved themselves to be time and time again they could also be just as dense as Ron. It wasn't as if the incident was a secret either, and everyone in Gryffindor as well as some folks from other houses would know that the Delacour sisters were under his protection by breakfast.

"What a shame that is," one spoke up, while Harry's critical gaze ran over his face again. He wasn't uncomfortable with the stare, and neither was his brother, because Harry had been looking for differences ever since he sat down at the Gryffindor table in his first year.

"Too bad they weren't smart enough to know that our little leader doesn't like bullies," the other said, and Harry thought that maybe he was George because of a slight difference in his right ear lobe. It almost seemed shorter than his twins.

"I'm not anyone's leader," Harry rebuked casually, tilting his head slightly as he noticed it wasn't anything about their ears. "I just think they should be enlightened a little, with a little inter-house punishment."

"And who these obviously unintelligent tormenters that have offended you so?" Fred, or was it George, asked with interest. A spark seemed to have ignited in both of their eyes as they contemplated possible pranks.

"Connely, Anderson, and Jost. Second years, I think," Harry supplied. He glanced to his right and left to see if anyone had heard him as he consulted with his partners in crime, and some had, but knew better to leave things alone. "I trust you have it under control?" he asked.

"Definitely," they nodded and said in tandem. "Those three have been causing a bit of ruckus since the other teams arrived," one continued.

"On to something else of interest though," The one on his right was George, Harry thought, maybe because of a slight tilt in his eyes. That wasn't it though, he realized as the twin pushed a strand of hair behind his ear.

"Have you noticed Malfoy Jr. lately?" He was just going to assume it was Fred, he decided. It was likely they would just switch places the next day anyway. Harry shook his head and the Weasley continued, "he seems to be more jumpy, and doesn't let people sit too close to him at meals. We're wondering if you know what that's all about?"

"Why would I?" Harry asked and shrugged. He took a moment, and the Twins let him, to sift through his memories for something that stuck out. "He seemed anxious in Defense the other day, and forgot to toss something in my caldron last Friday. I didn't notice though, because Parkinson tossed in monkshood at the last minute and it exploded anyways." Harry frowned and continued, "and he hasn't been bothering me about being in the tournament. I was sure he would, it's too big of an opportunity to pass up, but I haven't noticed."

"It's alright, mate," George said, "you've had other stuff to worry about, like getting together with Krum."

"And here we thought Ron was the one with a crush," Fred teased and they both looked at him with sly grins.

Harry blushed, but at the same time his eyes narrowed, "I do not have a crush on Viktor," he said plainly, "he's just been nice is all, and Karkaroff wanted to know about some passages through the castle and I offered to show him a few. You know, a couple of the useless and easy ones."

"Sure," they accepted with careless waves of their freckled hands, "how about just keeping an eye on Malfoy Jr. for a couple of days. We really think something fishy is going on," when Harry gave them a curious look the same twin continued, "we don't like the little bugger, but whatever's crawled up his arse is obviously unhealthy for him."

The other nodded in agreement, "a family feud is no reason to just let someone continue on like that."

"I'll keep an eye out," Harry finally agreed, "now if you'll excuse me Mister Weasley," he nodded at one and then the other, "and Mister Weasley. I have to go appease Hermione." Harry stood and noticed a couple of eyes on him, and nodded again to Seamus and then to Neville as if to tell them he was alright and whatever business he had with the Twins was resolved. He noticed with a bit of amusement that Neville swallowed heavily, because he knew that whenever he took an issue to the Weasley Twins someone was going to wake up in a vastly different manner than when they went to sleep.

"Harry James Potter," she said in a warning tone as Harry took the seat next to her. "I can't believe you sent off with a girl when you have homework to do," she started.

Harry leaned against the table, his chin in his hands and he contemplated something. "You know, I never understand why no one says my full name when I'm in trouble. When you're mad at Ron you call him 'Ronald Billius," he mentioned.

"You," she started angrily, but her frustration tapered off quickly, "What?" she asked. "Are you saying your name isn't Harry James Potter?" she sounded incredulous.

Harry turned to smile at her as innocently as he could, glad that his redirection had worked. The issue with his name was only brought up so that he could distract her from her anger before he calmly let her know that he didn't need her help with his homework, "I suppose it should be if that's what it said on my Hogwarts letter, but the teachers in primary insisted on calling me Harrison."

"You're lying," Hermione decided a moment later, "and I don't appreciate it. Now go get your homework and I'll help you with your potions."

"It's alright," Harry was a little disturbed that she first, thought he wouldn't tell her the truth, and second that she thought he was incapable of doing his own assignments. Of course, him and Ron hadn't been the most diligent workers since they met in first year, but it was always Ron who tried to copy and Harry usually just skimmed over his notes to see if he'd missed anything. "I've only got a couple of questions left, and they're pretty easy. There is something else I need to talk to you about though."

"What is it?" she asked him, "is it about Viktor Krum?" Harry couldn't decide if he wanted to categorize her tone as wistful or uncaring, but knowing the female persuasion as he did had decided that he probably wouldn't guess the right one in a million years.

"Actually it's about something Dobby told me earlier today," he thought quickly and pulled his want, casting a privacy bubble around them. Breaching the subject would be the easy part, keeping her from shouting wasn't so much and he would rather that she yell in a privacy bubble than disrupt everyone else's relaxation.

"Oh," Hermione seemed more interested, "did the other House-elves like my presents?"

"If you mean 'like' as in 'have threatened to flog him until he gets you to stop,' then sure," Harry pushed his chair a little to side and narrowly missed being hit by Hermione's book as she slammed in on the table for a second time that hour. He suppressed a flinch at the loud bang and was careful not to meet his friends gaze as she began a rant.

"Don't they understand what I'm trying to do?" she hissed, "The first step is to motivate them to help themselves and what better way than to show them that being free is not so bad." She continued on for a few more minutes while Harry retreated into his own thoughts, thinking of a careful phrase that would keep her from treating him as Ron was. "and Dobby-"

"Is bonded to me," he lied carefully, meeting her wild brown eyes with his own green eyes, "since second year, because a House-elf cannot live for long without being tied to a wizard or they would fade," and the second part was not a lie, he had read a little about House-elves earlier in that year. Just as soon as he'd had access to the library, and could pull himself away from Ron and Hermione, he had read enough about Dobby's kind to know that they couldn't usually last as long as the exuberant elf had without a master. Though his main goal at the time was to find out if Winkey could have really used a wand to create the Dark Mark at the World Cup.

"Harry," her tone suggested that his plan hadn't really worked, "don't you see that slavery is wrong?" she demanded.

"I admit that the concept of House-elves is a little archaic, but if it was between a them living or dying then I assume they're happy to have masters," Harry suddenly felt bitter towards his best friend, wondering how long it would take her to see reason, "and you can't set them free by leaving clothing around. The only thing you're doing is insulting them and hurting their feelings, and if you keep it up than they'll take it out on Dobby." He felt in the situation that it was his prerogative to be the one to stomp away from their conversation, and decided that he would give her the night to stew her thoughts.

He huffed repeatedly as he made his way to the fourth year boy's room, and instantly noticed the eccentric elf that he'd just been talking about was jumping up and down on his bed. "Hullo there Dobby," he greeted sullenly. Dobby came to a screeching halt and stared at Harry with wide eyes, "I tried talking to Hermione, but it doesn't seem like she's going to see reason anytime soon," he added.

"Dobby thinks that is alright, Mister Harry Potter Sir," he said cheerfully, "because Dobby overheard Mister Harry Potter Sir say that Dobby is being serving a wizard as great as yous."

"You heard that, didn't you?" Harry scratched the back of his head, "I didn't meant to imply you weren't free Dobby, I know how much you like having thing and being able to buy them yourself."

"Mister Harry Potter Sir doesn't really understand," the House-elf seemed to have sobered up, "Dobby really is bonded to Mister Harry Potter Sir, has been since nasty Master Malfoy tossed him his first sock," the House-elf tried to explain, "Dobby is also being a free elf because Mister Harry Potter Sir does not ask anything of Dobby and is having not acknowledged the bond. Kitchen elves especially is telling Dobby to inform his Mister Harry Potter Sir that he is Dobby's master so that I is not going on to be lazy house-elf with pay from Hogwarts. Other elves is telling Dobby not to say anything sir, as they have been gambling to see how long it would take Mister Harry Potter Sir to figure it out himself."

Harry stared into the large tennis ball eyes of his friend, taking in all of the information after translating what Dobby had just told him into a more understandable dialect of English. "Oh," he said after a moment, "Well, that's a surprise," he said carefully, taking in the new situation with much suspicion, "do you want me to make you do any work? I mean, I'm pretty fine doing most thinks for myself."

"Dobby is understanding Mister Harry Potter Sir likes cleaning," Dobby nodded, "Dobby is happy cleaning the Chamber of His Secrets and is having counted sixteen rooms and a dinning hall. I is coming here to give Mister Harry Potter Sir our progress report."

"Wicked," Harry said with more enthusiasm, "I guess I'll leave you and Winkey to it, until Sunday. Don't overwork yourselves though,"

Dobby nodded once in understanding before snapping his fingers and disappearing. Once he was gone Harry walked towards his bed and allowed himself to fall backwards.

"I'm sure there's room for this week to get a little bit weirder," he said to himself.

**The Bonus (For taking so long to update)**

Remus Lupin happily pursued the shelves of history books that were available at Flourish & Blotts, his faithful canine trotting along beside him. He was particularly thrilled to know that he had a seemingly limitless budget for books and was doing an enjoyable favor for someone he cared about at the same time. It didn't hurt that he would be able to read several of the texts before he sent them to Harry.

Both he and Sirius, the large black dog that seemed to take an unusual joy in sniffing underneath the shelves, were a little more than shocked to have received a letter from their most favorite Marauder child just a few days prior. Remus had been the one to untie the parchment from Hedwig's leg, and cheerfully shouted across the room to Sirius the name of the sender. He took a secret joy of watching his friend snap out of his daydream, stand a little too quickly, and fall face first into a plate of scrambled eggs as he tried to leap over the table.

They both eventually got through the whole letter and Remus didn't know whether or not to smile or frown. He felt greatly amused to see Harry copy their Marauder speak, and was overjoyed that the young man finally began to make an effort in a class other than Defense. His displeasure came from knowing that Harry really didn't have a chance of passing the standard tests of the Ministry unless he studied independently.

Sirius had just been overjoyed through and through. Most of his excitement stemmed from the fact that Harry had actually come to them with a problem.

They both knew, with painful acceptance, that Harry didn't trust adults. Really, Remus had to admit to himself, there was no reason for him to. Adults seemed to have let him down his entire life, and that didn't seem likely to change. So the canines basked in the togetherness and knowing that Harry apparently trusted them enough to help him with this problem. To which later Sirius proclaimed that he would fund Harry's history education, and then that 'Child of Prongs' really wasn't an acceptable name for a future Marauder, otherwise future generations would be called 'The Child of the Child of Prongs.'

"Should we send him the History of Fire Breathing Lizards?" Remus asked aloud, getting a positive nudge in the back of his leg, "Yes, it was amusing to read, but it wasn't very relevant."

Him and Sirius had agreed, before they even left the house, what subjects they would introduce to Harry. The first on their list was history, because Harry had asked for it. The subject had actually been one of Sirius' stronger suits in school, but it had been rather hidden. The old dog would have rather eaten a live toad than admit to doing anything that would be considered 'nerdy,' like Evans or Snape.

The second subject was one that would be considered more of a family tradition, becoming an animangus. The ability to transform and disguise ones self would eventually help him later in life, like it helped Sirius, and regrettably, Wormtail. It would also give them better ideas of what his nickname should be, because as soon as Sirius read 'Child of Prongs,' he had chirped 'Prongslette,' and Remus knew without a doubt that name wouldn't go over well.

Remus also knew that his doggy friend was severely underestimating their pup. He thought it would be in Sirius' best interest to explain just how cunning and sneaky the child was, but he also felt entitled to a little fun. Watching his old friend make mistakes and his pup seek a little revenge was definitely what the werewolf would consider 'fun.'

They passed along a row of books on jinxes and hexes and Padfoot immediately began nudging the back of his leg, trying to tell the other man to add a few of those books to their already impressive pile. "He doesn't need them," Remus whispered a second later, a smirk played across his scared lips, "and why would you buy a hundred useless books when all it takes is one or three personal journals from a certain point in time."

Padfoot immediately understood that Remus meant their own collection of personal writings and notes from their time at Hogwarts. The dog nodded once with enthusiasm and they continued on, completely bypassing the that section and stopped directly in front of the books on healing.

Each men stood and stared, their eyes catching a couple of titles as they looked up and down simultaneously before turning to each other. There wasn't anything that needed to be said, but Remus did feel a little foolish for not thinking of it before. It went without saying that if Harry kept with tradition than this year would be just as bumpy as the last three, and learning the art of healing -especially self-help spells- then their pup would be able to avoid pain, long-term damage, and the knowledge would no doubt extend his life-expectancy.

"We'll start with the basics," Remus said logically, "and gift him a couple of more for Yule. He won't be able to come home anyways." The thought had saddened them when both of the Weasley parents explained a tradition called the Yule Ball, and while they both knew without a doubt that Harry wouldn't have fun at a stuffy dance, they could at least insure that the rest of his vacation time was well spent. "I wonder who he'll ask to the Yule Ball," he said passively. He looked down as he realized he'd said that out loud and immediately looked down at his doggy friend.

Padfoot had stopped in mid stride and his human like eyes were opened so wide that he almost looked like a Chihuahua. Remus caught himself before he could laugh and then felt a little sorry for his friend, Sirius hadn't been around long enough to get used to the idea that their pup was nearly grown, and would start to pursue girls (and maybe boys, but both men admitted to not being sure). The werewolf immediately bent down to pat the dog on the head and whispered, "It'll be okay, and at least now you have something to tease him about when you drop off the books."

It seemed to do the trick and Padfoot snorted in happy agreement. Neither of them realized just how much they would impact little Prongslette with their actions.

**Bonus (For over five hundred adds)**

Aleksandar Levski had been friends with Viktor Krum since they began attending Drumstrang, before Viktor even joined a Quidditch team. They spent their first year like all of the other boys at their school, learning to live without their parents and forming social circles. Aleksandar was sure that the older blokes looked at them with the same amusement that Viktor and he did as he watched the small children grown and hit puberty, officially entering adolescences, and watched them fumble over themselves in an attempt to cope without young ladies.

Aleksandar remembered when he and Viktor were fourteen, and both had looked to the most feminine boy their age. It was that year they met Zhenya Brish, a small Russian who openly proclaimed his sexuality to anyone who would listen. He allowed both Bulgarians his services and in the end marveled had outgrown his curiosity and the three became great, platonic friends. He never put much thought into what Viktor had taken from their nighttime experiments, and in the end he had decided that it really didn't matter. Viktor was a great person, and if he liked women that was fine, the same could be said if the Seeker decided he liked blokes.

It had been nearly three years since Aleksander had put any thought into things like sexuality. He found it amusing to notice that the young man that brought the subject forth would be young Harry Potter, a fourteen year old student of Hogwarts and a rival to his oldest friend. The child was completely oblivious to what he was doing to the stoic young men of Drumstrang. The second day they were even their he was subjected to listening to a provocative description of the British savoir from Zhenya, and had noticed another one of their more stubborn (and nearly homophobic) classmates was developing the early signs of either a paradigm shift or a mental breakdown whenever Harry Potter entered the room. No one really was really sure which it was, but Zhenya went ahead and started a betting pool. He noticed that Viktor had put in a hand full of sickles that their classmate would break sometime during the first task.

He remembered the first time he'd seen the skinny boy for himself. He was still overwhelmed that his best friend had been chosen as their Champion. In his opinion, they couldn't have asked for anyone better. ThenAleksander became increasingly confident in their chances of winning when the next person to be called on was a thin Veela, one who couldn't possibly have any measurable amount of physical strength. After the French girl was a gangly looking boy from the Hufflepuff house, his cheeks were heated in embarrassment and he looked very nervous. Then a fourth name came shooting out of the flames and everyone, including himself, fell into confusion and silence.

"Harry Potter," had been called, and his mind immediately turned to the words Zhenya had spoken. He didn't see a graceful youth that carried himself with grace and respect or a wild eyed beauty who brightened a room. He saw an arrogant little boy with messy hair and chicken legs, a foolish little boy who sought to take the glory from his friend.

Aleksander watched through narrow eyes as the offender stood and walked towards Dumbledore, his green eyes daring the students surrounding him to try something unseemly. The fierce look only added to his belief that the young Harry Potter was up to no good. Then, just as soon as the flames spat out the final name, the young man was gone. He had taken the hall that lead to the other Champions, and Alexander spent the time from that moment until Viktor returned to the ship making a mental list of all of the things he would give up just to have been a fly on that wall.

When Viktor did return he said nothing, and waited for his friend to speak up first. He watched as the Seeker removed his thick coat and polished boots, but he said nothing until he sat down at the end of his cot, directly across from Aleksander. "Well, ask your questions," Viktor said with much amusement, anticipating a long night of interrogation.

"Potter," Aleksander said first, "tell me about that boy," he demanded with anger.

Viktor rose a hand in indication that his friend should calm down, and Aleksander unclenched his fists before his friend even began to speak. He listened as Viktor told him about a boy that guarded his fear like a bear protected its cub. He tone of voice was soft as he told how Harry had answered their hostile inquiries as calmly as he could and denied every accusation no matter how it was worded. He was a cunning child, Viktor noted as he recalled how Harry had carefully chosen his answers and was never disrespectful or raised his voice. His friend and Champion didn't believe, not for one second, that the foolish child put his own name in the Goblet of Fire.

"How can you know?" Aleksander growled, even though his ill will towards Potter had faded dramatically he was still frustrated with the blind faith Viktor seemed to have in the boy. He thought that maybe his friend had recently taken a blow to the head and he should seek a healer, but he waited.

"I know it is unfair for me to say," his friend replied carefully, "but you would have had to see it in his eyes, to watch is body language and hear the way he answered. I doubt even his instructors paid enough attention to the way he held himself and the very matter-of-fact way he spoke. I doubt there is very much that his instructors know about him, period."

Aleksander squinted at his friend and tried to assess what he was seeing, not only what he was hearing. It was something that they were taught very young, to not only listen to a person when they spoke but watch as well. Body language could tell a lot about a person, but there was still something he was missing. He opened his mouth to ask a question but Viktor had already stood and collected his things to shower before bed. In frustration Aleksander flopped back onto his bed and forced himself to sleep.

It would be another day before he could learn anything else on the matter. He had spent much of the next morning looking for Viktor, but hadn't seen him since the night before. His search for his friend, as well as the one for secret passages (he would never understand why their Headmaster had ordered it)lasted for most of the morning and through lunch. By the time lunch was over he had given up and resigned himself for just waited until Viktor gave himself up.

At dinner he finally reappeared, strutting into the Great Hall of Hogwarts like nothing was wrong and took the seat to the right of him. Aleksander immediately raised a curious eyebrow, because his friend had always sat across from him and Zhenya so that he could look at them as they spoke over their meal. "I will speak to you later," he promised and dug into their rich meal. He accepted the answer, because he had no other choice, and didn't ask any questions over dinner.

Instead he noticed a scrawny figure with wild black hair almost directly across from them, almost completely eclipsed by another head with bushy brown hair. His eyebrows immediately reached knew heights as he figured out why Viktor had chosen his seat, it was so that he could see the youngest Hogwarts Champion. He immediately leaned forward to catch Zhenya's eyes and nodded towards table of red and gold. The blonde began throwing inconspicuous glances towards the same table until he saw what Aleksander did and turned with wide eyes to stare at Viktor.

They both kept their peace though, until the evening meal was finished and they returned to the privacy of the S.S. Raina (after Raina Kabaivanska, their Headmasters favorite opera singer. Though all of the students knew better than to mention that). Once they ensured they would not be overheard Viktor told them what he noticed. First, that he was very aware of his surroundings, knew his enemies (or stalkers) weaknesses, and had been willing to share the information. Then he went on tell them a little of what he read about the rules of the Tournament before he recounted their lunch together. Viktor had noticed the young man was nearly alone, and kept company of a boy who didn't seem nearly as strong. Then he told of the horribly bland looking sandwich that he didn't even finish, the wear and tear of his small hands, and his morbid sense of humor.

Viktor laughed, Aleksander marveled, as he recounted what the little Champion had said about dropping him in an inescapable part of the castle. Zhenya also noticed and shared a look with him, and finally all of the pieces had fallen into place. Viktor had a crush, for the first time since they had met as young boys, their friend showed signs of feeling tender things towards another human being.

He watched, and barely listened as his friend recounted the passage that led to an empty classroom and it's guard, with inquisitive eyes. Viktor seemed calm and, dare he say it, happy. In the end Aleksander decided that's all he needed, and accepted little Harry Potter, Savior of Britain, Hogwarts Youngest Champion. Now all that and Zhenya needed to do was help the Bulgarian realize those feelings for himself.

* * *

**To Those Who Just Read: **

I apologize for taking so long updating. I really didn't want to write the scene between Gabrielle, Fleur, and Harry. Then when I did, I had no clue what to write afterward. I'm also pretty sure that the tone doesn't match that of the previous chapter. I'll try better in chapter six though, that one wont take as long to write.

I had fun looking up Bulgarian and Russian names, hopefully I can incorporate Aleksander and Zhenya more without messing things up. Fleur also has some friends from her school, but I haven't given them names yet.

About the French I used. I should apologize for those of you that actually speak French, because I had no idea if it sounds right or not. I got the single words off of a translator and the last phrase that Harry says off of a random website. To those of you who don't know French, it's not really that important (because I can't remember and I don't feel like looking it up) the point is that Harry knows a little bit of French, and I'll get to why that is in later chapters.

Oh, Raina Kabaivanska is a real person, and, like all opera singers, I have a hard time believing that voice came out of that woman. Videos of her singing can be found on you tube (what can't be found on you tube). In the end I sort of figured that a big bad, former Death-Eater like Karkaroff should have a guilty pleasure. I was in choir for a few years and know how big of a voice can come out of a tiny person (I'm talking 4'11", size zero, loudest and most beautiful voice out of sixty something girls), but opera singers still surprise me.

Thank you for reading.

**I like quotes and reviews,**

**Alzipher **


	6. Chapter 6

**To the Masses: **I don't know how to clearly express how sorry I am for being gone for…over six months? Has it been that long? …I should probably start looking for a job…

On a brighter note! Look, chapter six!

Warnings: OOC, AU, slash, threesome, language, and all of that other stuff in the warnings for the first five chapters.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I'm thinking of genetically engineering my own Zhenya though.

* * *

**Chapter Six**

_"You never come back, not all the way. Always there is an odd distance between you and the people you love and the people you meet, a barrier thin as the glass of a mirror, you never come all the way out of the mirror; you stand, for the rest of your life, with one foot in this world and no one in another, where everything is upside down and backward and sad."_  
_— Marya Hornbacher (Wasted: A Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia)_

Harry reclined back and twisted his upper body until he caught sight of Viktor and two of his friends walking towards him and Neville. His fist instinct was to draw his wand and get both he and his friend away, because three large older boys could only mean pain. That was his old life though, when he was younger and Dudley and his gang of ignorant rich boys. It was Viktor though, who led the other boys to the patch of grass that Harry had claimed as his own. It was the Bulgarian Champion who gave him a shadow of a smile that eased his nerves and allowed him to turn his back to strangers, if only to gauge what Neville was thinking.

Neville couldn't help but feel shocked at Harry's reaction. His motions were so fluid and well thought out, every single action was calculated and likely born of paranoia yet Harry turned his back to them to meet his eyes. Neville could only give his friend a brief nod of acceptance and turn back to his research on aquatic plant-life. In a couple of more weeks he would no longer be allowed to walk barefoot into the lake so he was going to use all the time he could. Harry also seemed to be considerably calmer when they were outside and away from the swarming masses.

Harry allowed his eyes to wonder across to the other side of the lake where Draco Malfoy sat, hunched against a tree with a thick book across his lap. He'd been that way since Harry had first spotted him that morning, occasionally flipping pages and taking sips from a thermos. He had recalled the words of the Twins and kept an eye on the boy, but so far couldn't tell if anything was out of the ordinary.

Viktor finally reached Harry's picnic place and let himself fall onto the ground with a happy sigh. A bright, blond haired teen with pretty features sat down next to him, followed by a bloke with excess muscle and jaw that seemed far too square for the rest of his face. "This is Zhenya," Viktor said pointing to the first boy, "and Aleksandar," he continued while gesturing to the muscular on. Then Harry tried to follow what he was saying as he made introductions in Bulgarian, first introducing Harry and then Neville who waved from the lake.

"Ah," the teen named Zhenya said excitedly, "is that a red sugar algae?" When Neville nodded he stood up quickly and shucked off his shoes, not caring at all if they hit Aleksandar in the face. Just as soon as he got the last sock off he was racing towards the water while trying to roll up his pants.

"Well," Aleksandar said in a pitifully happy tone, "at least now Zhenya 'as someone to talk to about such things."

"Yeah," Harry agreed somewhat awkwardly. He glanced at Viktor who was looking back at him with a somewhat bemused expression and tore his eyes away. That look made him feel a bit self conscious, and his immediate reaction would be to pull back into the shell of anti-social habits that he'd created. He was trying to make friends though, he thought while he looked back across the lake to make sure he hadn't missed Draco's departure then at the two boys. "So," he tried to converse, "do you know Newton's laws of Motion?"

Apparently Aleksandar and Viktor both did, and they for that Harry was grateful. Hermione had brushed off the idea of scientific law being similar to magical laws before, which had squashed Harry's hope of having an intelligent conversation about them. The other two boys seemed open to the ideas that Harry presented and he was grateful for that, and Viktor seemed to be as well.

Zhenya added his who cents when one of the Drumstrang boys shouted a question at him, but otherwise seemed to be engaged in a deep and fulfilling conversation with Neville. It was yet another thing Harry had to be happy about, because he'd never seen Neville so open and confident in his answers. Even in Herbology the other boy shied away from conversation, but that was probably because he didn't feel comfortable talking in front of an entire class. When it was just him and the older boy he didn't seem like such an awkward klutz.

Harry found his thoughts straying to that morning, when he'd woken up to an argument. He'd pushed his bed curtains aside to see Seamus standing in the middle of the room in nothing but his green boxers with a look that could kill, facing off against Ron who was also still in his pajama's. They were both red faced and Harry thought he might be able to literally see the anger boiling behind their eyes.

Dean and Neville had been standing to the side; both of them looked upset as well. When Dean locked eyes with Harry he flinched and looked away. Just a second later he stepped out from between the beds and laid a large, dark hand on Seamus' shoulders and pushed him toward the bathroom. Harry imagined he could hear the soothing conversation before either of them started to speak.

Ron had crawled back into his bed and pulled the drapes shut with more force than was necessary, but Harry knew he wasn't going to sleep. Ron had a temper that could keep him awake for days, so his retreat only meant he was hiding away from the rest of them.

Neville had watched it all and calmly walked towards Harry's bed. He told Harry that they were going out for the day, with more conviction than anyone had ever heard before. Harry couldn't be more glad for it either, because he felt more relaxed and at ease when they were outside and away from everyone.

There were still dark clouds threatening to block out the light of his current thoughts. Things like Ron, who was still angry with him, the blasted tournament, the crowds of people, and the public attention that was being thrust upon him.

For a while though he felt freed of those burdens, while he talked with Viktor and the other Drumstrang boy. While he looked out on the lake to see Neville happily chatting away with a bloke about plants that Harry couldn't identify, let alone explain the magical and non-magical properties of.

Then his bubble of happiness popped.

From across the lake he could see Pansy Parkinson making a bee-line for Malfoy. He couldn't see the look on her face but the walk was one of a girl with a mission. He'd seen both Hermione and Ginny stomp about that way, and that could only mean bad things for the person they had eyes for.

"Shite," he swore and stood. He glanced over at Neville who nodded, understanding he was supposed to stay back no matter what and if things looked like they weren't going to turn out in Harry's favor he was to go find the Twins. Originally it had been Ron and Hermione, but they were never very far anyway. Since they'd started keeping their distance his source of backup had been the infamous pranksters.

"Is that your boyfriend?" Aleksandar asked in a sly tone, shooting Harry a look that was probably supposed to be considered a 'leer' but Harry didn't have anything to compare it to.

Harry snorted in amusement, "we don't get along on the best of days." Then he watched as Malfoy realized Parkinson was there and shut his book roughly.

Once Malfoy climbed to his feet Parkinson pushed him back into the tree and started waving a finger in his face. Still, Harry was too far away to see the boy's expression and turned towards Neville. "They should be in the greenhouses at this time," Harry shouted towards his friend and then stepped behind a tree. The forest was thin and coverage wasn't so good but Harry had long ago perfected the art of hiding, and he kept out of sight as he made his way towards the Slytherin duo.

The three Drumstrang boys stayed where they were and watched as Harry issued orders and disappeared into the sparsely covered area. Each of them were shocked, most of it stemmed from a teenage boys willingness to help someone he couldn't even stand to be around. After that had been the way Neville had responded to the orders, with a brief nod and without question. Then the way Harry escaped their notice as he undoubtedly made his way towards the couple on the other side of the lake.

Viktor couldn't tell where his little friend was, how fast he was going, or any of the things he so desperately wanted to know. He did notice the moment Harry reached the couple, observed the way he stayed behind the trees and the way he worked his magic. The Drumstrang Champion expected the young boy to jump out of the bushes with sparks flying from the tip of his wand and just jump into action. Instead Harry hid behind a Rowan and the spells he used were small and even he had a hard time seeing what was being done.

Just as well, as soon as Viktor realized Harry had no intention of showing himself two identical and familiar heads broke through the tree line and jumped on either side of the blond boy with enthusiasm that they seemed to be known for. They didn't look as if they were picking a fight either, instead they seemed to be starting a conversation that neither Slytherin wanted to be apart of.

When the girl tried to leave her robes got caught underneath her feet and the twins took that opportunity to gently urge Malfoy to walk in the opposite direction. They were very careful not to touch him, and in return he looked very skeptical and snobbish. They circled around the lake, but still none of the Drumstrang boys moved as they made their way to Harry's patch of grass.

"How goes it?" one Twin asked, Viktor wasn't sure which. He was sure it didn't matter either; they were the type that wouldn't give you their true identity even if someone were to pay millions of galleons.

"Why am I here?" the Malfoy boy asked in a strained tone. "What are you up to?" he accused the Twins with a piercing glare, pointing an elegant finger at each of them.

"Oh you know," one Twin said and the other continued, "We're just here to have some fun." To that Malfoy snorted in amusement but he did believe them.

"I don't suppose your certainly don't have anything to do with this, do you Saint Potter?" he spat towards the trees just as Harry had stepped into view. Harry looked him up and down subtly, noticing the way his hands were clenched but there was a defeated look in his glare. He was just keeping up appearances. Malfoy had never done that before, he always got just as much morbid joy out of their arguments as Harry did and if the same scene had played out months before Harry was sure he would have been hit. The Twins were right, something was wrong with him.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Harry replied in a bored tone. He looked over Malfoy's shoulder and watched Parkinson make her way back into the castle with a very noticeable limp that she may or may not have gotten after tripping over anything and everything in the last few minutes. Harry was sure no one would even find so much as a trace of that jinx when she made her inevitable complaints to Madame Promfrey and grinned like a cat that caught he canary. "Now that you're here why don't you join us for lunch?" he offered.

"I'd rather dine with the Duo of Destruction," Malfoy snapped back, gesturing to the Weasley on either side of him.

"Oh good," the one on the right said, Harry narrowed his eyes in thought as he evaluated the width of their shoulders. "What do you say about grabbing something from the kitchens and we can eat while we watch folks climb in the main stair well?"

It wasn't in the shoulders, Harry decided as Malfoy asked what could possibly be so interesting about watching people climb stairs. It could be possible that the freckle pattern on their chins -but no, that appeared to be the same as well.

"Peeves may have possibly found a stash of Skin Clinging Color bombs," one started and the other finished, "you know; where we left them an hour ago."

Malfoy had the choice between spending time with two Weasley's, whom his family was sworn to hate for all eternity for a reason no one seemed to be able to remember, and watch the masses being attacked by a crazy poltergeist or missing the show and finding a new corner to read in. "All right," he agreed as if he never had a choice in the matter to begin with, but Harry could see a big of happiness in the way his lips twitched, "but I'll not be taking any blame when you get caught."

"Who said we were going to get caught?" Fred, or George asked while the other looked at Harry with his best kicked-puppy look. Harry knew that look meant they were asking to barrow his treasured cloak and he nodded. They were always very careful with his things when they did barrow them, and the end results were always in their favor.

"We'll save you a seat at dinner then," George said to Harry, "Between Gred and I, and your three ickle fourth year friends we should be able to keep Granger away from you tonight."

"Why would you need to do that?" Harry asked. Sure, she was a bit annoying lately. She kept trying to guilt him into freeing Dobby, for real instead of just allowing him to do whatever he wanted. Then there was the blame for the Tri-Wizard Tournament she might have placed on him, as well as the disapproval of hanging around Viktor Krum, because he was competing against Hogwarts and there might have also been a couple of choice phrases and about inappropriate relationships –Harry wasn't so sure what that was about though. Overall though he couldn't see a reason that Fred and George would feel the need to play bodyguard.

"Connely told her that he felt that his well disserved retribution was brought about by you," Fred explained and he and George continued to switch off, "she was composing a file of all the reasons of why you were wrong and plans to present them to you during dinner. Likely in a very loud manner with subtext in regards to your involvement in the Tournament."

"I wasn't the one that jinxed all of his clothes to turn into Beauxbaton uniforms," Harry protested.

"We know," the Twins both held their hands up as a gesture that they meant no offense. Of course they knew that for a fact also, because they were the ones that had actually done it. "You never use the same trick twice…ever," the other continued. "Connely's just trying to get his own little revenge, not that it's deserved. Ickle Ronnikins will take the heat later when she can't get near you and the worst of her ire should be gone sometime tomorrow, when we're schedules to start testing products on firsties."

Harry sighed and nodded in acceptance, "thank you," he said genuinely. "You three have fun tormenting the masses," it was a clear but cheerful dismissal and he could see that Malfoy almost wanted to argue just because of that fact. Instead he turned around and stalked towards the castle, two relieved pranksters trailing after him.

"I think they have a crush," Neville said a moment later, startling Harry. He hadn't seen the other boy return, but he did have a point. Neville didn't bother asking why Harry was likely keeping an eye on Malfoy. He knew Harry long enough to know that he probably wasn't going to get an answer, because Harry didn't want to incriminate himself. There were safe questions though, like "What did Connely do?"

Harry ignored the three older boys who were sitting around with confusion written across their expression and body language, and answered Neville, "he and two other boys were assaulting Gabrielle Delacour for being half-Veela. They said something very upsetting." Memories of the word 'freak' being spat in his face rushed back and he didn't really feel like smiling or even pretending to.

Neville looked thoughtful and turned to explain some things to their new friends, "the Twins never attach themselves to anyone. Lee Jordan is the closest they've ever come to having a partner, and they're never nice to anyone outside of Gryffindor."

"So for them to be trailing after the Malfoy is unusual?" Viktor asked. He'd gotten the point that Harry was secretive and it didn't bother him, but knowing his friend Zhenya would lead a mob just to get information he wanted and Aleksandar would just glare viciously. There were certain things he could figure out for himself anyway. The biggest fact he'd just learned, was that Harry was in charge even if he hadn't realized it yet. The Longbottom boy said that the Twins didn't have partners but Harry was clearly used to giving them orders and the dismissal was smooth and subtle.

"It is," Harry answered while he stared at them thoughtfully. He seemed to decide something a moment later and shrugged before turning back to the rest of the group with a smile. The Twins and Malfoy would probably be good for each other. Fred and George could protect Draco, who had a bit of a Napoleon complex, and teach him to be less up tight and hopefully less of a snob. In turn Malfoy could teach them some restraint and how to enjoy a good prank without incriminating themselves. It helped that the three of them all enjoyed a good show of humiliation at someone else's expense, and Malfoy was probably smart enough to keep up with the Twins. "And thank you," he added happily.

"For what?" Zhenya asked innocently. His confusion was still apparent but if Viktor didn't ask then he wouldn't, and the same could also be applied to Aleksandar.

Harry didn't want to say 'for staying out of the way,' because while it may have been true it was a harsh way of wording it. Instead he simply said, "Letting us get things done," and took his seat next to Viktor.

Viktor opened his mouth to ask another question but another boy in the familiar red and brown uniform had gotten within Harry's perimeter and the young boy fought against giving him the stink eye. It wouldn't do him any good if he reduced another upperclassman to tears just because he was annoyed.

"Yevgeniy Brish," he said evenly, with a self-righteous hint in his tone. Harry looked around to see Zhenya glaring for all he was worth, his teeth were bared and his blond hair looked wild.

He replied in Bulgarian in a tone that was low and definitely threatening. Harry didn't understand a word of what was being said, but if the messengers blush was anything to go by Harry would have to guess that Zhenya knew some creative swears. The messenger stayed just long enough to stutter a reply and then he took off running towards the impressive ship, Zhenya was hot on his tail.

"I should take him his shoes," Aleksandar said in a tone that implied he clearly didn't want to. Never the less he stood and gathered the discarded socks and shoes, following after his friend and a leisure pace.

"Zhenya's full name is Yevginey," Viktor explained, "He hates it though. Too bad for Damyan, Zhenya also has no problem harming the messenger."

"I should be going too," Neville said suddenly. He quickly scanned the area to see if he left anything lying around and turned back to Harry, "I promised Luna Lovegood I'd help her in the library. At least if I'm there the other Ravenclaw's won't be so mean to her."

"I'll see you at dinner then," Harry replied with a smile. It was good that Neville was branching out and making friends, he wasn't so sure about Luna Lovegood just yet but she seemed nice enough from a distance.

Neville's departure meant that Harry was alone with Viktor but he didn't feel at all uneasy. If anything he felt a little more relaxed because there was information he wasn't comfortable sharing with Viktor's friends and he was sure there were some things Viktor didn't want Neville to hear.

"I want to ask, but I am not sure how welcome my question will be," Viktor said a few moments later. When Harry said nothing but looked at him expectantly he continued, "Why, if you do not like the Malfoy child did you help him?"

Harry tilted his head in thought before he answered reasonably, "the Twins asked me to keep an eye on him for a couple of days, just to see if he'd been acting odd. It's very rare they take an interest in anyone, so I couldn't say no. If they've taken an interest, one they've sought outside help for, then I could only assume they didn't want him harmed."

"You would not mind if they were together that way?" the grown Seeker asked while carefully avoiding Harry's gaze.

"In what way?" the boy inquired, interest shone brightly in his eyes and it took a moment for Viktor to realize the question was genuine and not just the small boy teasing him.

'Together," he explained, "like husband and wife."

Understanding dawned on Harry and he blushed furiously. "Or, I suppose in this case it would be husband, husband, and husband," he tried to joke. "No, I wouldn't mind. The three of them would work well together and I might feel sorry for anyone who upsets them. It's not really my business anyway, but if it were," he answered honestly and then finished with a shrug. "I do wonder how they'd explain that to their parents though."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence for a long time, both of the boys just stared out at the lake occasionally paying attention to a bird or the Giant Squid. "Fluer invited us to practice with her, for the Tournament," he said when he remembered, "and Cedric Diggory too. She doesn't think we should have to do it alone."

"And what do you think?" Viktor inquired as his eyes trailed after a small bird that was diving and fluttering through the air.

Harry didn't answer for a very long time, but when he finally did it was to say in a small voice, "I don't _want_ to be alone."

"Then you won't be," Viktor promised, "it will be interesting to see what we can learn from one another. You have years to catch up with the rest of us as well, though I doubt you'll need it."

The compliment made Harry flush slightly. Compliments were hard for him to take and after a few weeks of stuttered answers and pitiful blushes his friends had stopped openly offering compliments, especially in front of others. So he was taken off guard at Viktor's words and it made him a bit nervous, but he smiled anway. "Do you want to play a Seekers game before dinner?" he offered in response.

**Bonus (I AM SO SORRY)**

Viktor kept the golden snitch in his sights but Harry was always in his rage of attention. The young champion didn't fly like a professional; his turns were too sharp, his dives were too sloppy, and Viktor had actually composed a list of all of the things that could possibly be wrong with his technique. None of that mattered though because Harry chose to take risks and he was full of surprises.

When they had first mounted their brooms, after making sure the pitch was void of people, Viktor tried to think of a fair handicap that would be subtle enough as to not catch Harry's attention. The young man seemed to be the type that would get upset at the very thought of not playing to his fullest potential. It turned out that a handicap wouldn't be needed though. While Viktor had experience and finesse, Harry had courage and was cunning far beyond his years.

He was also lighter and smaller; his weight wouldn't slow down the broom as much as Viktor's slight bulk and Harry could lay his body flat against the handle so that that there was less wind resistance. He wasn't prone to fancy tricks, if anything he seemed to fear falling off of his broom and Viktor wasn't sure he wanted to know why.

Eventually it wasn't about the snitch at all and Viktor found him and Harry flying for fun. They flew as high as they could while diving with the same vigor. All the while Viktor was silently teaching him through example, showing him little ways to improve his flying Harry was showing Viktor the expression of someone with a true passion for flying.

Any type of flying, it turned out. While they took a break Harry retold the events of his third year and a Hippogriff named Buckbeak. There was another incident, the year before with a flying automobile, a concept that passed right over Krum's head. Then there were recollections of his third year when he'd passed out in the air, and his first year when someone had jinxed his broom.

Viktor had known young men who refused to fly after a single accident and always thought them weak-minded. Even he had to admit though, after hanging from a jinxed broom he might have given up as well.

There was something in Harry's expression that told him the young boy wouldn't give up flying for anything though. It was beautiful the way his face just lit up as the wind blew through his hair and clothes, as he rushed past stands that were slowly starting to fill up with students. It had been clear that he hated all forms of attention, but Harry didn't care so long as he was on a broom.

They never did get back to looking for the snitch, and before they knew it the dinner bell was ringing.

Viktor couldn't remember a time when he'd had so much fun, with no actual purpose. He was fairly certain that had never happened. For one entire afternoon though, he'd forgotten all of his duties and responsibilities and just had fun. Even as his mind rushed during dinner, trying to find solutions to make up the homework he needed to get done, he felt light hearted.

If his friends noticed they hadn't said anything, which he was grateful for because he wasn't sure he could explain his happiness even if he tried. The new feelings were light and soft and comforting. It was like the calm before a storm.

* * *

**To Those Who Just Read:**

I know it's short and I left a lot of unanswered questions. It's nearly six in the morning though and I'm tired as hell. I was supposed to write a Dobby bonus, but…well, it's nearly six in the morning. I promise to post soon though, especially if I get some awesome reviews. Don't misunderstand, I would never hold a story hostage for feedback…it's just that there are a lot of reviews that are ego-inflating and really get me fired up for this story. Also, I'm sure you realize this was a bit of a filler chapter. If you squint you can see a subplot though. Maybe…There's also a good chance that I've screwed things up royally with post 2A.M. writing again.

There's a huge error I noticed while trying to figure out how to spell 'Beauxbaton.' Turns out Drumstrang is really spelled Durmstrang, at leas that's what HP wiki says. I'm disinclined to believe it…so I figured I'd check it out after a good days sleep and edit all of the chapters if it really is 'Durmstrang.'

This chapter's quote was donated by lirial89. Thank you.

**Thank you for reading! Sorry I disappeared!**

I heart quotes and reviews,

Alzipher


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